


Beauty from Pain

by AuthorInDistress



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: - in the later chapters coming, Alpha Loki, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Body Horror, Captivity, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gore, Horror, M/M, Omega Tony Stark, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:46:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 94,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorInDistress/pseuds/AuthorInDistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki forcefully claims Tony as his Omega, Tony's life steadily gets worse from the moment it all began. In perfect accordance to any Omega-Alpha-bonding laws, Loki is completely in his right to keep Tony and all his possessions, which makes a 'rescue' a criminal offence; despite just who it is, Tony is bonded to. </p><p>But, as Loki's brutal treatment slowly erodes Tony's self-worth, things aren't what they seem and there's a mystery to this house that seems connected to Omega's and - mainly - to the both of them as well.</p><p>[<b>Non-con scenes now over</b>.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning [please read]: If Non-con is really not your thing, please don't read this fic as it may be triggering. The non-con stops after chapter 8. There is also gore in this fic, and torture.**
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> I also want to assure that, though it probably will seem it at times, this will not be rape = love or Stockholm syndrome. It'll seem hard to believe but trust me. The rape will not be forgiven.

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If anyone ever asked, it was incredibly likely that he would never have a suitable answer for how he always seemed to end up in situations like these. Situations where he ended up hurt.

Born an Omega; raised to be careful and smart and to not let himself get into vulnerable positions, he'd always taken precautions since puberty to try to keep anyone from claiming his body.

Of course, with him, there was the bonus of it being both his body plus everything that belonged to him, which was exactly what had lured all those suitors to his 18th social party, and was definitely why each and every one of them had been verbally torn to pieces by his dad before being kicked out.

He’d been a little too mortified at the time to even pay attention to how his father had acted when it came to his Omega issues.

But after growing older and more mature, he’d been "allowed" to be told all the secrets that his parents had kept from him and after their death, he’d read his father's journal and had discovered that his grandfather had been an Omega himself. And any problems that he’d had being one had been relayed to his son, Howard.

His dad had been taught, from childhood and onward, to treat Omegas with the respect that 'Breeders' deserved. And to always do so; especially if his own child was born one, which inevitably happened.

And so after the funeral, he'd learnt that each time Howard had protected him or had ridiculed suitors he didn’t think worthy of his son, and had comforted Tony through his heats, had all been because of his grandfather's own issues.

Which was nice, in a way, he guessed. To know that the only time his father had ever really acted _fatherly_ toward him, had been because of his own father’s drilling lectures; that being born an Omega had let him have just that little bit of love from the old man.

He’d listened to it all too. He'd listened to all the advice that Howard had given him, along with the hints that his mom had given him throughout puberty. Things like - hiding your scent whenever you thought you were coming near to your heat, or never letting an aggressive-looking Alpha know you were an Omega.

He'd taken the ‘suppressors’ since his first heat, just a week after his birthday, to balance out his out-of-control hormones and when he'd gotten older he’d invented his own brand and had expanded the research to create the ‘suppressant’ _drugs_ , which was essentially the same thing, except mixed in with the LH reducers were drugs that he’d taken from anything that he knew that caused drowsiness.

Obviously, that meant that the suppressors had to come with the standard 'do not drive or operate machinery' on them but they were still preferred to those that had previously been sold, because of their drowsiness. They rid the pain of heads and made them softer, like it was all a dream. He always took them hours before his heat even started and he had _never_ forgotten to take them once. That claim still stood true, as well, because in this situation he hadn’t forgotten them at all.

He’d actually been in the middle of taking them, a little later than he really should have maybe, when they’d been snatched from his hands and thrown down the gutter. He remembered, past the haze of it all, seeing the white glow of them disappearing into the dark whist he’d just swayed at the strength of his attacker's blow. He also remembered being hauled onto someone’s shoulder and carried fireman style, down the street. Oh, and he’d been drunk.

Drunk and taking tablets, what an _idiot_. But unfortunately that was his mistake and it was how he'd ended up like this, in one of his situations where he knew that he was going to get hurt.

He pushed his stomach up only to be pressed back down into linen sheets, with his shirt ripped and his skin burning. He blinked his sweat-sodden hair out of his eyes and gasped at the hands that gripped his thighs.

He was in heat and he was being taken advantage of, that much he could understand. There'd been a benefit ... maybe. He wasn't sure anymore and all he could really stay aware of was the scent surrounding him and his brain slowly shutting down as instinct began to take the reins.

Tony hissed at the hands on his back, batting his own at anything in sight in a feeble attempt to get away. His skin was hot to the touch and he was shaking which meant that, whether or not the attention was unwanted, the hands skimming over him felt cooler and  _so_ good.

He felt dizzy and sickeningly disorientated, shivering though he was clearly burning a heat-induced fever, and he couldn't see anything properly at all let alone think about what was happening.

Usually, if ever anything like this happened he would be aware enough to either fight back or to call for help at least, but in heat it was a different story. In heat, if he had sex, it could be distrastrous; especially if he bonded with this alpha.

Or any alpha, because he'd learnt that he wasn't very good at reading people and those he needed to trust always seemed to have their own agendas in the end.

That thought alone was enough to make him start pushing back against those hands again, no matter how much his body physically ached for their touch, because this wasn’t just about trust issues that he was dealing with here either.

He owned a company half the world wanted to get their hands on, and he owned a face and body the other half lusted after.

Being ambushed the first day of a heat cycle by an Alpha, particularly one he knew wanted his company, was one of the first things his father had warned him about.

And being taken _mid-first-day-of-heat_ by an Alpha, and especially by an Alpha that was giving off his own pheromones as well, usually meant that the sex would end up in a bond.

He grimaced against the kisses being pressed to his neck, shivering.

"Hold still."

His attacker - who he remembered being introduced to him as ‘Dimitri Harrod’ when he’d been around 21 - grunted when Tony pulled away from him. He was tugging on his trousers and through the blurred vision his heat gave him, Tony tried to knock him off of the bed. If he was going down, he was going down with a fight.

" _No -_ " He didn’t sound faint yet, but his voice was croaky and his breath hitched as he spoke. But still, it was a very clear and very intentional ‘ _no_ ’.

And of course, any “respecting-businessman” would ignore an Omega’s refusal, because he was just saying ‘no’ for fun. Tony tried to push himself onto his hands and knees but frustratingly, he didn't have the strength, “Get _off -_ me -”

Harrod held tight to the one arm that he had in his grip, pinning it behind Tony’s back to make him squirm against the sheets.

"I can smell you, Stark, don't lie to yourself," His voice hissed in Tony’s ear, making him recoil away from him. Harrod skimmed his perfectly manicured hands all over Tony's skin just to feel him writhe, and his nails scratched at his hips. Tony’s ground his teeth together, blinding fury overcoming any other emotion. The fucking little _creep_. 

His head was pulled back by a grip in his hair and he noticed that he'd been brought into a child’s room as soon as his eyes cleared from the pain; if the posters around the wall and the nightlight were anything to go by.

"God - " He turned his face away from Harrod’s peppermint smelling breath, and shut his eyes. He really hoped that the asshole wasn’t married and he really, really hoped that this wasn’t his own child's bedroom.

His hair was pulled in a tighter grip and he got the hint, opening his eyes to stare at Harrod’s chin. "If you want me to stop, then why are you hard?" _You know why you bastard._ "Jesus, you're boiling." He darted his tongue out to wipe a tear in the corner of Tony’s eye away before letting his head go, just before he could spit in his face. He fell forward, his face bouncing on the mattress.

Harrod rolled his hips behind Tony’s, holding him tight with one hand and keeping him pinned with his chest and his weight, grinding into him.

His jeans, though unbuttoned to let his cock out, chafed against Tony's now increasingly sensitive skin and he bucked again; trying desperately to get away.

"No." He ground out in answer to his statement, his voice getting stronger in his anger. "You can't just ta - " He bit back a whimper when his ass was kneaded with a firm hand.

Harrod licked a line down Tony’s shoulder, humming under his breath. "Can’t what?" He asked slowly, not bothering to hide his amusement. He remembered him a lot more clearly now. His dad had embarrassed his family when he'd asked to claim Tony, in front of social elites which was probably why he was acting so sadistically.

Something his dad had done was coming back to literally bite him in the ass.

Harrod bit down on the skin beneath his mouth and Tony muffled a shout, knocking his shoulders back to shake him off. He kicked out, hating himself for still trying to arch toward the sound of Harrod’s hand pumping at his own length.

"Yes,” He bit out, still answering Harrod's early statement. “You _can_ feel me burning - ” He cut off, his voice cracking. It hurt to speak, the words rubbing in his throat and making it itch from the inside.

He swallowed. “But it’s not for you." Harrod chuckled softly behind him, releasing his shoulder. Tony took that opportunity to lift his free arm and bring his elbow up, swinging it around to knock back into Harrod’s face.

The ass recoiled with a shout, his hands flying to his nose, but when Tony tried to wriggle out from under him he fisted them in his hair to keep him in place.

Keeping a harsh grip on his head, Harrod pressed him down into the pillow, holding him there and making him scream into the material when he couldn't breathe.

Tony thrashed, trying to get in air and to get away from all of this, panicking and screaming obscenities into the bed.

He was pulled up just enough to take in a gulping breath of oxygen, before Harrod practically covered his lips whole with his own, swallowing his choked off cry just as he began to push into him. He wasn't big but the intrusion was still painful and if it wasn't for him being in heat, he probably wouldn't have even gotten in without ripping something.

"I was planning on preparing you." He grunted, finally releasing his head to let him breathe, and Tony rocked forward at his first thrust, hitting the headboard  with a hard crack.

"You know, it being your first time and all.” Harrod continued to drawl as Tony recoiled beneath him.

He shouldn’t know that, should he? Or was it public knowledge? His brain was numb, he couldn't think. He keened when Harrod pressed in deeper, his lips shaking uncontrollably.

He couldn’t think clearly, he was, this was - " _Ah!"_

“I was trying to be nice." Harrod growled in his ear, biting down on it when he received only a high moan in reply. Tony couldn't get enough air in his lungs to answer, gasping at each thrust, and his head was growing light the more he hyperventilated.

"Unlike how your family tries to be."

Tony couldn’t help but let out a sob, digging his fingers into the sheets until the knuckles were white. He kicked out again but his legs were pinned now and before he could even think of trying to punch Harrod again, his arms were grabbed and held down by his head and it was only the shaking after each thrust that actually let him move at all.

"Hurts, doesn't it. Huh, Stark." Harrod’s grunts were growing shallow and Tony squeezed his eyes shut instead of thinking about what that meant. Relief that it was almost over but knowing what it meant if Harrod spent himself in him.

He wasn't ready for this, he wasn't ready to be claimed but he was literally and lawfully trapped, and there was no Omega Act that would say that what Harrod had done was wrong. He was completely in his right to claim an omega, even if there was no doubt that this was revenge, served cold after all these years. Tony felt sick.

"Voice your pain, for me. Lemme know how it feels.” Harrod continued, his usual eloquence now non-existent. “To know that after this, everything you are. _Everything_.” He thrust in harder and Tony’s hands tightened their grip on the sheets as he cried out. “It’ll all belong to me.”

Harrod panted, practically seeping in glee. “Your famous little suits, your billionaire company, your family mansion.” He pushed in straight to the hilt, and lay over Tony’s back, rolling his hips to keep a pace. “And of course, _you_."

He leaned down and bit Tony's shoulder again, smiling over the mark at Tony's shriek. "So speak then. How does it feel knowing _I’ll_ be the one fulfilling my father’s wishes and that you’ll fail in fulfilling yours in your company. Because you’ll be sorting my clothes and making my dinner Stark. Not dealing with company details or anything like that shit anymore.”

Tony didn’t answer, turning his face away and shaking. He didn't answer, he couldn't form a reply scathing enough, but in the end he didn’t have to because someone else got there first.

"I imagine,” Harrod paused, snapping his head up and Tony went utterly rigid beneath him. “That he would be feeling some loathing.” Tony's eyes flashed open, his every muscle tightening as Harrod stopped completely, still buried inside him, to face the intruder. “Loathing for you." The stranger continued, obviously feeling the need to elaborate.

Tony could feel himself grow cold and the shaking in his arms only increased at the intrusion. It couldn't be.

He could still hear Steve’s parting warning ringing in his head, from before he'd left for the fund-raiser this night; his warning to be careful around alcohol and other Alphas. It echoed in his mind and he couldn’t help but pray that he would come and find him. Come and _rescue_ him even. And tell him that he was such an idiot for ignoring him.

But when he turned to look at where the voice had come from, Loki hadn’t moved and it _was_ Loki. Tony’s heart pounded at an alarming rate when he focused on just how vulnerable he was right now.

He tried to crawl away from them both, to hide until it all blew over and to hope that it was a dream but Harrod was already inching out of him bit by bit and he couldn't move without a stab of pain rippling through his spine. He hissed under his breath, the friction making him wince even when his body continued to burn, aching for more.

Loki looked on, his face as blank as it had been when he'd left for Asgard. He shouldn't be here. He should be  _there_ , in Asgard. And _away_ from Tony.

“My claim has nothing to do with you.” Harrod spat at him, and Loki smirked in response but said nothing. “And who the hell _are_ you anyway - ?”

"No, it nothing to do with me.” Loki interrupted, “But,” His smirk grew into something vicious. “Unfortunately for you, your claim has the ability to interfere with my future plans."

Harrod faced Loki now, his jeans scratching Tony's thighs as he twisted around, and there was a look of absolute disdain on his face. Something that he'd obviously learnt from his father, if Tony's memory served him correctly. "And you think that gives you the right to break in and - ?"

The room glowed a bright green and it was the only warning given to either of them before Harrod went blasting backward into the wall. Tony didn't react to the strike but he did curl into himself when he was approached. Behind him Harrod groaned on the floor and without even sparing him a glance, Loki kicked his head in hard.

Tony froze, the sound of Harrod’s skull cracking drowned out by the rushing in his ears, and his fingers uncurled from around the sheets when Loki casually sat on the bed beside him. He was still in heat, still wound and wired, and fighting would involve skin contact which wouldn't be a good idea for him right now.

He almost did slide closer anyway though, his body still telling him to try and get something inside him, but he stopped himself just in time. No matter how far gone he was in this, there was no way he was showing it or letting Loki get his filthy hands on him.

"You're supposed,” He coughed, his throat raw from shouting. “You're supposed to be in Asgard." He rolled his shoulders as Loki watched him curiously, bracing his muscles to push himself back should he try to reach for him.

"Am I?" Loki's tone was light and, before Tony could react, he placed a cool hand on his naked thigh. Tony hissed and arched toward him. "Then I suppose this must be an awful nightmare of yours."

He sighed, mockingly in regret, and unhooked the leather straps of his armor, pulling it off as though it was completely normal to strip in front of your enemy.

Tony stiffened, still aching from _Harrod_ , and his eyes widened as Loki's chest came into view, ignoring how his heart thudded more for it too. "No.” His chest tightened in fear and he panicked, shuffling back until the pain between his legs took his breath away. “No. No not you - not _you -_ " He lunged back, trying to roll off of the bed without actually touching Loki but a casual backhand struck him back against the mattress and the blow only added to his dizziness.

His eyes blurred, and his heart beat fast in his throat. He was still too out of it. This was bad, this was really bad. He couldn't think and he wanted, he really wanted it, but he didn't and he _couldn't_.

Loki shifted, every movement slow and methodical, like he wasn't just about to rape Tony. Like he wasn’t about to take what was only in Tony’s right to give.

The strange thing, however, was that the part that struck him the most was how this didn't make any sense, “Why - why do _you_ want me - ?" Tony started, his teeth chattering. He hadn't been able to fight against Harrod, an average mortal guy, and without his suit and in heat and naked, he was nothing against someone like Loki. He felt as vulnerable as a child before a wild predatory animal.

“I don't see any reason to tell you that,” Loki told him, now completely naked. Tony kept his gaze pinned to his face, seeking out any regret or feeling; anything that he could use to make him stop.

"Please," His skin erupted with goosebumps when Loki leaned over him and he knew, even without glancing down to check, that the god was clearly hard. He was giving off all the right pheromones, enticing Tony's body, and even the smell of Harrod's blood wasn't enough to force that away, "Don't - " He tried to slide backward, "Look, what - what would this even _do_ for you - ?”

Loki looked down at him and he reached for his legs, still moving so slowly, or maybe that was Tony's own delayed reactions making him see it that way.

His mind buzzed with things that he really shouldn't worry or care about right now but he couldn't stop it because this didn't make any sense to him and he felt he deserved an explanation. Why would Loki want to claim him? Harrod he could understand; he'd wanted him since his 18th and his father had been after the company for years.

But Loki? He couldn’t, for the life of him, think of any reason why. He snatched his hand back when Loki tried to grab it, "Is this about - " His breath hitched when Loki’s expression darkened at his withdrawal, trying not to let it affect the part of him that wanted to submit to that.

“Claiming - claiming me won't give you any advan - " Loki grabbed his legs, holding them apart by the ankles, and used his grip to yank him down the bed. Tony's head knocked down against the mattress and he bit his tongue, almost vibrating at the touch. The nightlight fell to the floor and shattered, and when Tony looked in it's direction he saw the body of a dead dog in the corner and felt his heart palpitate with a burst of fear.

That made it pretty clear that this wasn't a kid's current bedroom and that it was just an empty room that Harrod had found, or maybe even hired if this had been planned, and with the nightlight now fizzled out they were both shrouded in this darkness.

"I have no intention of explaining myself to you,” Loki repeated, his voice low, deep, and so close to Tony’s ear. “All you need know is that I came here with the explicit intention of claiming you and now that you are already prepared, I can," Like his hands, Loki’s voice was ice cold. Detached. There was no pleading with someone like him. "The other mortal taking you did nothing but make this easier for me." He didn't sound the least bit sadistic, as Harrod had, and instead sounded disturbingly normal.

Tony shook his head, thrashing against him as Loki’s cool skin felt like knives against his own flushed chest.

"Thor will kill you - ” He tried to threaten, but it only fell flat because Thor wasn't here right now.

"Do you really expect me to care what Thor will do?” Loki scoffed, sounding a little breathless. It didn’t take a genius to guess what he was doing and Tony cringed into himself, “And if I did, Thor will not be able to do anything anyhow. Not without disrupting your laws. And certainly not after I've claimed you.” Tony began pulling himself away again, but Loki's hands cupped his face, keeping him still. He almost choked on his own bile, when he was kissed, “I am well within my rights." He murmured over Tony’s lips. “In the laws of your world, and in my own.”

Tony pressed his legs back together when Loki separated them but a blow to his knee knocked a cry out of him and rolled him onto his side. He separated them himself then, if only to stop Loki from hitting him again. He couldn’t even see properly now against the darkness and his blurred vision and he let a single tear slide down. No one could see him and at this point, he didn't care.

"Not if it's rape." He countered quietly, and the lie was so obvious he winced at it himself, "You won't be in the right then."

He felt Loki’s lips against his throat, felt him smile as he kissed his adam's apple. “Do not assume that I've not done my research,"

“I - ” He tried for one more plea, just something to stop him, but his mind went utterly blank when Loki pushed into him.

He rose off his back, his shoulders rolling to keep him down, and Loki thrust into him even further; burying himself inside. His wrists were grabbed when he tried to push him off and they were pinned down on either side of him. He turned to hide his face against his arm, smothering any sounds that he made in shame.

Loki pulled out to thrust in again and he shook from the force, his thighs braced over his hips and at the feeling of the other man’s skin against him, he whimpered behind his teeth. This was Loki - his eyes slid shut - and this was so wrong, and so unbelievably _unfair_. It was his first time with an Alpha in heat, and both Harrod and Loki had taken unforgivable advantage of that, and he couldn’t even think straight to understand what all this meant. What it could all mean.

All he knew was that Loki wasn’t going to last long, and when he came inside him, Tony would no longer be a free person. He would be a possession. A trophy.

Harrod had wanted a house-Omega, someone to fuck when he was in the mood, and someone to take care of his things when he wasn't; all while he stole Tony’s company from him bit by bit.

But Loki was a God. An alien that had been treated like royalty all his life. He wouldn't want that.

Tony bit his own skin to muffle his sobs. It was easier thinking about explanations, easier ignoring what was happening. This night was a dream, a nightmare. He was fine. He was perfectly fine. He was still unclaimed, and he was in no way being threatened with his own freedom.

A particularly harsh thrust of Loki’s knocked his head back and his teeth released the skin that they were locked on. He was bleeding, somewhere. He could feel it.

Loki wouldn’t want a house-omega. Loki would probably want a slave. Or maybe just an unwilling body to release himself into, sadist bastard that he was.

Maybe that was it. Loki bit Tony's lip, licking into his mouth and over his tongue but Tony's mind was now elsewhere and the humiliation didn't register. Maybe that was what Loki wanted. To humiliate the Avengers. And what better way to do that than turning the only Omega out of them all into his own personal sex slave.

And, in accordance to law and their bond, there’d be nothing his team could do about it.

He’d be Loki’s, and they’d know that. The World would know that, because his life had never been a secret. They would all know everything, they’d know how he'd become bonded in the first place. It was common sense. And they would think - Loki's hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing just a little, and he thrusted into him harder - they’d think that he’d wanted it maybe.

The particularly nasty tabloids would print stuff like that for sure, he was used to that, but this was different. This time, he’d care about it, he’d care that people would believe it.

 _Pepper_ might believe it. He was always so careful, she knew that. She knew that this was the one and only thing he was overly careful about, so the only other conclusion would be that he’d asked for it. She might believe it, they all might.

No one would come for him.

And even if they didn’t believe it, if they knew Tony and trusted him like he did them, they wouldn’t be able to do anything anyway. It was the law. Loki had been correct before; he was completely in his right to do this.

It was the sick Alpha’s that made the laws, who were to blame for things like this happening to Omegas. Tony hadn’t ever really paid attention to any of the Omega-right debates, he’d never thought that it would ever affect _him_. He choked back a hysterical laugh, because hey, guess this was karma.

Loki grunted above him, turning Tony’s face toward his and even in the dark, he could see his lips twist into a smile. He tried to turn his face away again but he was held in place for another kiss.

He sunk his teeth into Loki’s bottom lip.

Loki knocked his head to one side in punishment and Tony stayed that way, moving only when he was pushed at the force of Loki’s thrusts.

The god may be a prisoner but Thor had said before that he’d dealt his punishment for what he’d done. He hadn’t said what, but had told them that Loki had been given rules and that one of them was to not come to Earth without his brother, but he was here _now_. Thor must know. He must.

But then, if they bonded. Or rather, _when_ they bonded, his rule-breaking would be over-looked anyway. Tony’s rape would be overlooked. He’s just a mortal, why would they care? And there was no way that Loki could come to Earth without Thor anyway, so it was known that he was here. It had to be.

Someone had let him down here and now he was hurting someone because of it and that lack of accountability hurt more than what was happening to him.

Loki’s breath quickened above him and Tony’s mind shut down entirely. He didn't realise Loki had come until he noticed that he'd stopped and he froze, his heart rate slowing as his body relaxed, and he didn’t make a single sound when Loki pulled out.

He lay there in the middle of the bed, with his legs still spread wide and he said nothing at all; just stared up at the ceiling with his mouth shut but his jaw unclenched, and he ignored the sickening feeling of the semen cooling against his skin.

Loki sat back on his heels and through the darkness he could sense his eyes on him. Slowly, aching everywhere, Tony pulled his legs together and toward his chest. He tried to sit up but his head was spinning and he was pretty sure that he was close to throwing up.

“I think it best you sleep now,” Loki murmured, his voice a little huskier than Tony remembered. He began to protest, wincing as he shuffled backward on the bed, but Loki just followed him and laid a hand on his chest, just below the arc reactor.

When he moved it, Tony was already asleep.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really only up right now, just to see what kind of reaction it will get. The other chapters are not written yet and will be once they are finished only, or bit by bit, I'm indecisive. But I just want to see whether anyone would like seeing a story like this, just yet. It's a little dark but it'll get better. I promise :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this may not make sense as it's mostly Tony panicking. But here's another chapter to show the route I'm kind of taking with this.

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Tony woke laying sprawled on his stomach with a splitting headache. Groaning sent him reeling at the echo of it in his ears and he covered them with his hands, squeezing his eyes shut.

A hangover, then. 

After laying on his front to recover for a while, he finally opened his eyes, wincing at the sunlight seeping into the room and blindly reaching for his blanket.

His hands brushed against something that felt like fur but he ignored it in favor of grabbing the nearest duvet. He hauled it over his head, burrowing into the mattress to find some more sleep and to still recover from his drinking last night, or whenever it had been since he'd last drunk, which was when he noticed a couple of things all at once.

The mattress that he was laying on was different than his own; it smelt old, colder than his heated cotton, and the blanket above him was made of _silk._

He blinked, squinting up at it and slowly uncurled his hands from around it's edges to pull it down over his body. His head was still pounding and sending spikes of pain behind his eyes, but looking down at the bed distracted him from it enough that he could see clearly.

The bed he was on was huge. There was a canopy on it's left side, draped like an aristocrat's in Georgian times, and it even had it’s own little roof held up by the four, long wooden posts at it's corners.

He gaped at it and leant back into the pillows. For some reason, he had a feeling that this was bad and he started when something brushed the back of his neck, twisting around to look at whatever it was. The pillows that he was leaning on were made of cloth and fur. His jaw unclenched and he pursed his lips.

This. Was not his bed.

Tony pulled his legs in, bending the knees until they were against his chest as he sat up and the blanket fell away completely. Oh. Oh God, he was naked. He froze, trying hard not to panic but - but he was naked. He was naked in someone else's _bed_.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, his heart fluttering and convincing himself that he was fine. He'd done this before and had woken like this before plenty of times as well.

Sliding out of the bed, he didn’t notice the 4.ft gap between the mattress and the floor until too late, and his legs buckled at his ill-timed landing. He almost toppled over but twisted in time, and just managed to fall against the mattress again instead of thumping to the floor and alerting whoever had taken him here to his now roused state.

Panting into the mattress, he grimaced at the cramping in his stomach and the dull ache in his arms. Sweat coated his back and thighs and he could feel himself shivering. That meant - something important, didn't it?

He moaned when his intestines decided to twist inside him and remembered then that he was still in heat. With a sigh, he slid down from the bed to kneel on the floor. He hated being in heat; that was why he had his tablets.

He couldn’t do this for four more days, and he absolutely despised all the commercials that told him he could. He needed his drugs, and he needed his sleep and he really needed Pepper to comfort him when it got too bad. He'd had tablets, hadn't he? He definitely remembered taking them to the fund raiser. He paused, thinking back and recalling exactly when he'd put them in his trousers.

Fumbling around for his pockets, his hands patted bare skin and he remembered that he was naked and that being naked meant having no pockets, which in _turn_ , meant having no drugs.

"Fuck."

So he was naked and he was without his drugs in a stranger's house and in his second cycle of heat.

The little cry of panic that threatened to push out of his mouth was swallowed back before it could come out, but he still felt the need to scream. Instead he began to stare around the room with a newfound sense of urgency.

Where the hell _was_ he anyway? 

Shakily, he got to his feet using the mattress to support his legs until they finally realized that he needed to stand on them and that it would be helpful if his knees unlocked.

The rest of the room though, as far as he could tell, when he looked around it, was empty; besides the bed of course, and a small cupboard in the corner which, after rifling through the boxes that were inside it, only contained a pair of tiny denim shorts that he immediately slipped on.

He couldn’t find a shirt in any of them however, or any shoes, and the shorts barely covered his thighs but it was still better than nothing at all. And if he was stealing, then who cared. He was, technically, kidnapped right now so he could take whatever he wanted.

_I think it best you sleep now._

Tony stumbled when standing and he automatically reached for the door to steady himself, but missed and latched onto a box instead. It fell from under his weight and he fell with it, right into the middle of the rest of them.

The noise that he made falling made him wince horribly, nearly freezing in panic all over again, but he shook himself free and struggled to get off of them, though his limbs were uncoordinated and clumsy.

The panic in his chest expanded as he backed away and he jerked his head at his own stupidity. This wasn’t the first time that he’d woken up somewhere strange. Why the hell was he acting so ridiculously jumpy?

Forcing himself to calm down, he clenched his fists tight and began to breath in nice and slow.

There was no one here. The room was empty and most likely, the house that he was in was too.

He was fine. Absolutely fine. The reactor was still in his chest and unharmed, and he was no longer naked and in a stranger's bed; he wasn’t tied up, or in a cave, or laying on his sofa with his mentor standing over his paralyzed body.

A light tinkle came from under the floor and he paused. Well, more specifically, it came from the room that must be beneath him which meant that he must be upstairs somewhere, unless there was a basement.

He swallowed, his mouth now dry, and he wet it with his own saliva. Another tinkle came and in the back of his mind, he recognised the sound as being two glasses tapping each other.

So someone _was_ downstairs. Someone was here, and had been here, the whole time. They might have been listening, might have been waiting for him to wake up.

His train of thought cut short when he realised that he didn't care. This wasn’t his house anyway and they were probably just an overdramatic drunk one-night-stand of his that had decided to take him home for the night. He’ll just go downstairs, and leave. Simple.

Except. He was in heat. He was in his _second_ cycle of heat which meant that he'd had his first already. And, judging from the pain in his stomach, someone had put _something_ in him last night. He just didn't remember when or how. Or if he'd been - 

Feeling dizzy and a little sick, he leant against the wall, still trying to breathe in as slow as possible. That wasn't possible. He hadn't bonded. He'd remember, if he'd been bonded. He'd _know_.

He was still feeling panicky and overwhelmed from his fall, but his body clearly knew something that he didn’t, or couldn’t, remember and he was starting to hyperventilate though he didn’t even know why.

He pressed a hand to his mouth when he heard the sound of a chair being scraped back from downstairs again and, jerking his own hand away, he shut his eyes for a brief moment and willed himself to calm down. This was nothing. He'd literally been there and done that. He was _fine_.

There was the sound of a door closing and he figured that if he wanted to leave, then it was either now or never. Before his ‘host’ decided to go somewhere.

Pushing off of the wall, he flicked his eyes around the room until he found the door and marched toward it, intent on walking out of the room and demanding to know where he was before then leaving when his clothes were returned to him.

He barely even made it to the door however, before he had to stop and check between his legs to see if he was bleeding. It felt way too uncomfortable, sticky and sore to not be and sure enough, after prodding at his thighs, he could see a visibly dark stain in the blue of the denim. It made him feel a little queasy to look at. 

There wasn’t exactly a spare change of clothes around and he didn’t have many options to change. Biting his lip, he eased his thighs apart, grimacing when the dried blood caught on his skin, and walked a little more stiffly than he'd like out of the door.

And it wasn’t locked! He didn’t even know when that had become a worry of his, but apparently it had been, because all he could feel now was pure relief as he walked down the hallway outside.

_An awful nightmare of yours._

The hallway, like the room, was completely empty. No cabinets or mirrors or tables with little photographs on them, which was what he’d expect from a house as huge as this because it wasn’t just the room that had been big. The hallway stretched down longer than the Stark mansion’s did and it was also really, really wide.

He had to stick near to the walls as he walked because there were no windows or lights to see with and he had to squint at the dim surroundings to make sure he didn't walk into something.

There was a carpet here though and for his bare feet, it felt a lot nicer than the hardened wood from the room that he'd woken up in.

He walked slowly, with no idea why he was taking his time, and his eyes skimmed over anything that he could see around him; cautious all the while. He almost expected someone to jump out at him and he unconsciously quieted his breathing as he neared a set of stairs in the middle of the hallway.

The wood creaked when his hand grasped the bannister and he released it quickly, his heart thudding. There was a single thud from one of the rooms downstairs but nothing else afterward, and he risked a step down. 

Alarm bells were ringing in his head but he ignored them. He’d been in plenty of situations like this before, this was nothing. Why was that so hard for him to understand? This was just someone having gone too far, and he was going to let them know just how _far_ they’d gone. With his fists if necessary.

The stairs were carpeted as well, the material a lot softer than the hallway's, and it was as red as the fur pillows in the room. This was getting odder and more worrying the more he thought about it. 

He looked past the bannister's patterned gaps and entwined wooden figures, to see fanciful embroidery on the walls downstairs. He frowned, all the more baffled than before, and that feeling only increased when he next saw a golden model of a coiled snake sitting atop a table beside a set of double doors.

Whoever these people were, they were _rich_. And a lot more flamboyant with their housing accessories than Tony had ever liked to be. He hated statues; too many figurines meant too many repairs when experiments went wrong.

He padded down the last step, shivering when cool air from an open window blew over his still bare skin before jumping when there was another thud from within the room behind him. He spun around, facing the door leading to it and growing rigid all over. 

He folded his arms across his chest, pressing his lips together firmly. Time to get whatever confrontation there’d be over and done with.

He skimmed his hands over the handle, belatedly noticing that the door was made of mahogany, and suddenly found that he couldn’t swallow past a choking lump in his throat. His eyes stung when he widened them but he couldn't help it. He also couldn't help the little gasp that he let out in realization because, _shit_ , there were -

There were bruises on his wrists.

Tony's chest tightened. There were _bruises_ on his wrists.

He couldn’t remember how to breathe. Last night was still a blur in his mind, but that was really the only confirmation that he needed.

There was bruises on his _wrists_.

He -

Someone had held him down. Someone had _used_ his wrists to hold him down. He felt sick. He felt dizzy and sick and even a little faint.

He was bleeding. There was blood on the shorts. His head hurt and his stomach ached. Symptoms. Symptoms that he knew off-by-heart.

Oh my God.

Oh my _God_.

He stumbled backward, his hand slipping off of the handle, and he still couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think -

He was -

His skin was burning. God, he was still in _heat_. He needed -

He had no drugs, he had nothing. He’d woken up _naked_ and in someone else's bed - 

There were fucking _bruises on his wrists!_

"No - "

His eyes flew up when the door opened with a _snick_ and he found himself staring up at a face that he’d never wanted to see again. He took another step back, a full breath finally making it’s way into his lungs, and he shook his head slowly, in sheer denial of all of this.

_No._

This wasn’t happening. This was a nightmare.

_Then, I suppose this must be an awful nightmare of yours._

Loki smiled at him, a knife in one hand and a glass in the other. He leant his hip against the doorframe as he stared at him and Tony stared back. He stared and he backed away and his chest rose further with every breath than he thought it ever could. He needed to puke, or gag, but there was nothing in him. He could taste the bile in his throat but it wouldn't come up.

Loki was fully dressed in his armor, as though he'd come from battle.

Tony opened his mouth as he looked at him. To scream? He didn't know. To shout and spit at him? To swear at Loki until he couldn’t talk anymore? Until he explained everything that he'd done, starting with what he'd done to Tony?

But nothing came out and all he was left with was an open mouth and wide eyes.

In the end it was Loki and not him, who spoke first. His smile widened as he watched Tony’s faltered steps, and his eyes were half-closed; amused and fierce. Everything Tony remembered seeing back in his tower, just before he'd been thrown through a window.

His hand came up to cover his arc reactor and Loki took a step toward him.

“Your new home,” He murmured, gesturing around him with the knife and taking a sip of whatever that dark liquid was that he was drinking.

Tony was still shaking his head. He didn't respond. He couldn't. He was too genuinely and _sickeningly_ scared to say anything to him.

He was practically naked, barefoot and wearing only shorts, and he could feel his next cycle coming up. It was already seeping through his skin, making him hard and ache.

He could feel his brain muddling together and his palms sweating, building the need that he was now burning with, for a body to take him again.

Loki’s eyes were glazed as he watched. He could sense it. He could _smell_ it. Tony staggered backward again.

He was still bleeding. He could feel it between his thighs and he was shaking, trembling, and shuffling away.

Loki took another step forward.

"No," He whispered, before spinning around on his heels and turning his back on Loki. He practically sprinted back up the steps that he'd just come down, running faster than he ever had before, and he didn’t even bother to look behind him to see if Loki was following him. What was the point?

He already knew that he was.

. 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little shorter than the others, but enjoy XD

* * *

 

Tony ran into the first room that he saw which happened to be a bathroom, and everything in there was carpeted as well; including the toilet seat and lid.

He hesitated for a brief second, gaping at it all, before slamming the lid down and clambering over it, wincing at the spikes of pain between his legs and in his arms. Aching everywhere while his heat called for something to cut through it and with no tablets, he knew what the best option was.

But with the choice being either running and finding a random stranger or even just a toy, or letting _Loki_ lord of bad-tempers-and-murdering-for-fun, he would probably choose escape.

No - there was no probably about it. He _would_ choose that option. And escape was kind of vital with that, so he ignored the pain and rose onto his toes to pound his hands at the window above it.

The carpet was soft under his bare-feet, sticking up between his toes comfortably, and vaguely, he wondered if that were the point of it being there. But the sound of deliberately slow footsteps creaking up the stairs interrupted that thought before it’d even finished.

The window above the toilet was locked, sealed shut with some kind of weird paste, as was the door beside it that must have led to an adjacent room. Or a cupboard. Or closet. Or who _gives_ a fuck because it won’t open!

He slammed his palm against it, kicking just below the handle but it didn’t even shake at his attack. Breaking the glass with nothing but his hands, would be of no use either and there was no way he was hiding in the bathtub. There was no way he was even _hiding_.

But he didn’t have time to try and force his way through the door. He didn’t have time to plan anything at all, and the sound of Loki’s agonizingly slow steps - most likely set to that pace just to intimidate him - only bellied the panic bubbling in his throat.

He gave up on the bathroom, running - still running, no time to walk - out of it, and he snuck a look behind him to see Loki. The bastard was just _standing_ there. Leaning against the banister, and watching Tony lose his head and run around.

 _Asshole_.

He almost confronted him, his hands twitching to just _hurt_ him, but he wasn’t suicidal and plus: He was in heat. That wouldn’t exactly be the best course of action, but the anger it ignited in him was good. Helpful even. It swallowed his fear quickly enough so he could at least think a little clearer.

Turning his back on Loki, he jiggled the handle of the door behind him. It was locked. And so was the one next to it, and the next, and the next, and - “Fucking _hell_ , did you lock everything in this house?”

Loki's smile, still fixed on his face from before, was covered when he drank from the glass in his hand. "You were asleep." He said, slowly. "And I was ..." He paused, his lips pushed forward as he thought for the right word to use. "Bored." He settled on, the green in his eyes almost alluring and it made Tony feel sick to look at.

Tony stared at him, refusing to even look like he was considering taking a step back when Loki took one forward.

"And," Loki continued, his voice low and drawling, and as bored as he'd said he'd been. "I would really rather you stayed. At least until I can," His gaze drifted over Tony's body and Tony felt the sudden need to cover as much skin as possible; to wrap himself in a blanket and wish that he were home and in bed. But he didn't move. He _would_ not move, not until the right moment. "Accustom myself to you." Loki took another sip, exaggerating the movement just so he could still look over Tony while Tony just continued to stare, breathing heavily through his nose while his mind scrambled against his heat to think and strategize. "Oh, and vise-versa, of course." Loki added, sounding faux-outraged at himself for forgetting. There was a drop of that dark liquid balancing on his bottom lip.

"Of course." Tony parroted bluntly. Loki's eyes met his and he held back a shiver, the Omega in him thrumming at the fire in that gaze, but he held his chin up as defiantly as he knew he wasn't being, to repel that feeling and the urges that it gave him. Showing Loki and even re-reminding himself, that he wasn't the type to submit. And that he never would be. "What do you want Loki?"

"What does anyone want, but -"

"Don't answer in riddles, please." Tony interrupted, "I can't stand it when egomaniacs monologue." _Jesus Christ Anthony Stark, why can't you ever just shut the hell up_? The glass tilted in Loki's hand in the silence that followed and Tony watched as he deliberately placed it on the flattened surface of the banister; taking the last three steps up as he did. The smile had gone.

"You do not speak over me." He said - no, _ordered_ , Tony. "As it stands now, you belong to me. And you will listen to my voice when it is being used."

"Make me." If Tony had been presented with the gift of hindsight earlier in his life, he would never have said those words. Because the answer wasn't the angry statement that he usually would have expected from Loki, or another comment on how the god - _essentially_ \- owned him now, but it was another step forward and another blank face.

"Oh, I intend to." Tony let Loki take one more step toward him before diving to the side and running past him to leap onto the stairs. He skidded over the carpet, grabbing the banister with one hand and propelling himself down them. The glass was knocked over by his elbow and in the corner of his eye, he saw Loki catch it with one hand. Never breaking contact with Tony's eyes.

He half-slipped, half-ran down the stairs, the carpet soft and yielding under his bare feet and if it hadn't been for the banister keeping his balance he would have fallen. The arched door before the stairs, surrounded by carved symbols on whitened marble, _had_ to be the front door. And therefore, his exit.

Toppling a tiny statuette of the devil purposefully over as he ran, Tony slammed his shoulder against the wood, and again when it didn't open, but when he hit it a third time he noticed the the same paste sizzling around the edges of the doorframe, just as the window upstairs had. So, like the window, it must be sealed shut.

But earlier today, he could have sworn he'd felt a breeze. He'd assumed it'd been an open window or door but - apparently not.

_Fuck._

With a grunt of frustration, he turned to try and find another way out, but the air was pushed from his lungs when a force knocked him backward, and he gasped at the dizziness that it stirred back into his head. His back hit the chest of a figurine, and her marble hands cupped his head as he panted beneath her; ironically protecting him from harm.

Like the statue, Loki's face was stone, from anger or desire Tony didn't know, but in response to seeing him stalk closer, Tony's eyes darted around the hall; his head still spinning and horribly disorientating him. There was a double set of doors either side of Loki, but he had no idea where they'd lead, or what was behind them, and one of them had that creepy snake model beside it which kind of ruled it out.

"The one on the left leads to a large drawing room," Loki answered, unasked. "Fit for entertaining guests, mostly." Tony looked at him, his hands automatically resting either side of him and he subtly began to feel around for anything that he could use to hit him with. Loki looked way too relaxed and easy with this and, despite it pissing him off, Tony could imagine him strolling around with his hands in his pockets; leering at him with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Not that you are likely to have any guests. What with, the doors being barred and my presence being a deterrent to any who dared to trespass."

Tony swallowed, pressing himself against the figurine behind him, and he bit back any comments that he had about not intending to stay that long to see for himself. "And, what's on the right?" The dizziness from Loki's blow began to mix in with warming sickness of his building heat cycle, and the result gave him an emotionally-sounding shaky voice and slightly blurring eyes.

"The dungeon." Loki answered, smiling at Tony's sharp look. "For whenever you displease me." There was nothing Tony could find to hit him with, not even a dislodged stone that could at least cause some damage. Which was a downright _shame_. "In fact," Loki raised a hand and Tony felt a light tugging on his arm, pulling him forward unwillingly. He struggled against it, jerking his arm away, but all it did was tighten the hold. "Why not test it now? After all, since you've awoken all you have done is test my patience." He was teasing him. The asshole was freaking _teasing_ him.

Tony yanked his arm back, letting out a hurried exhale when it succeeded in loosening the hold on him and he stumbled back two steps, his legs shaking as his heat cycle finally boiled to it's peak. Panic panic panic. "Do you think this is some kind of _game_ , you sick -" Loki's hand was around his throat before he could even blink, and he let out a raspy gasp of surprise at the fingers pressing into him. He hadn't even seen him move, let alone -

The ground left his feet, the oxygen leaving his lungs, and he kicked out in defense, aiming for Loki's knees and thighs to knock his balance off, but he was losing air too quickly to be effective enough and God, he wanted to _kill_ him.

His hands scrabbled over the steadily tightening grip on his throat, a strangled cry spilling from his mouth in protest, and yet somehow this only seemed to entice his heat even more. He'd always been a masochist, but now he kind of wished he'd stayed vanilla.

His body quivered in turmoil, torn between listening to his brain or following through with what his heat was urging him to beg for, and it wasn't exactly helpful that he was this close to his -

Oh. Oh _God_.

His. His Alpha.

 _His_.

They'd bonded.

They'd _bonded_. For real. They'd bonded for real and it was permanent. This was permanent and - and he'd -

Tony kicked out harder, more in self-disgust now for letting this happen to himself and for not fighting back hard enough before, but also in anger - anger like nothing he'd ever felt before -  at Loki for taking the decision of his bond from him. It was like having a forcefully arranged marriage. Only if he claimed Alpha abuse, no one would listen because he was an Omega and no one would care because he was Tony Stark. Tabloids would just write that he'd deserved it. Senators would agree.

Tony's kicks were way too easily dodged and he was just held at bay, with one hand, like some disobedient kid, which only infuriated him further until he was _screaming_ at Loki, regardless of the lack of oxygen and his less-than-advantageous position.

When his hands found Loki's face and he dragged his nails down, scratching at the skin as hard as he could, Loki released him with a snarl and he slumped to the ground. Getting to his feet when he was red in the face and panting for breath was harder than it might have seemed and he barely made it to his knees before Loki just pushed him back down onto his side.

He bucked, panic overwhelming him again but he pushed it away, focusing on forcing his heat down enough to at least let him think. But it was at it's peak now, and he was already becoming sluggish and limp, though he still struggled against Loki when he bent over him. Loki's hands were everywhere, sliding over his bare skin, and he couldn't see anything _but_ Loki. All he could see, smell, feel and even _sense_ was just Loki's goddamn scent.

The anger that he'd felt from before slowly ebbed into arousal and he lost whatever small advantage in fighting back that he'd had. Turning his face away, he recoiled as Loki's breath fanned over his cheek in a chill, and he continued to struggle, not planning on giving up this time.

Because they may be bonded - fuck they were actually bonded, it hadn't been a dream - but he was _not_ going to let -

Loki's hands found his legs and he used them to roll Tony over onto his back.

" _No_ \- " Tony's hand flailed, no coordination to them at all, and he lashed out at whatever of Loki's was in range. "You are _not_ doing this to me again - !" A tongue licked a stripe down his neck and he choked on his own protests.

Loki hummed, his tongue warmer compared to the rest of his body and it pooled that same temperature down into Tony's stomach and groin. "Heat, surprisingly, makes you mortals weak." Loki murmured against his skin, his voice almost a growl and it vibrated Tony's every pore, warming him from the inside until he was shaking from the dominance of an alpha.

It was the heat, it was the fucking heat that did this to him. And he hated it. He'd always hated it, but now, now it was _literally_ ruining his life. "I'd worried," Loki grunted when one of Tony's blows actually hit something. "That you would be a nuisance in all this." Loki's teeth scraped over his throat, making it tingle and burn.

God, this was happening so fast. Loki'd been trying to _kill_ about a minute ago!

"But to have the power I hope to gain, I knew that I would need to have _you_ ," Tony let out a strangled cry when Loki pressed into him, hard, to emphasize his point. "Bound to me."

"Fuck you." Tony breathed, sure he'd never be able to breathe properly again. "You - "

"But instead of a nuisance," Loki sounded a little breathless himself now, for entirely different reasons, "You are proving to be an interesting side-effect."

Tony panted beneath him, his eyes dilated and dark, as his mind scrambled to make sense of those words.

So Loki did want something then, something other than him. Tony was just the side-effect, the little prize won to entice the buyer until the rest of it came along. He wasn't even _important_ in all this. He was just there, he was -

He was just a bit of fun.

He gagged when bile rose in his throat and he swallowed it back with a grimace, almost swallowing his tongue when his legs were separated.

But when he curled them back to break Loki's grip, the movement sent his entire back off of the ground and all it did was give Loki the boost that he'd needed anyway, to place them up on his hips.

And all he was wearing were shorts. Jesus. _Jesus_. Not again.

Tony twisted, coiling his body like a snake, shimmying on the carpet just to try and get away from him. The carpet beneath him burned his skin, with Loki's grip iron on his legs, holding him still while he shuffled around and he let out a garbled cry of undisguised humiliation when Loki became frustrated with his struggles and pinned his face down to the floor with his foot.

Now towering over him completely and holding one foot braced over Tony's left cheek, to keep his face down on the ground and to limit his struggles, Loki undressed himself with one hand, using the other other to tug Tony's shorts down. The angles were awkward and Tony still kept pushing him back, but Loki still won - he still managed it. He was still there. This was all still happening.

God, please.

The flare in Loki's eyes made it clear that he was mostly acting out of instinct as an Alpha, and with Tony now his Omega, this was what his biologic response would be toward one in heat. Pin them down and have your way with them.

It was Biology.

Science.

Everything Tony loved.

Loki began to stroke himself, slowly, still bent over him, and Tony's heat spiked in anticipation to encourage him, while his sane self flattened himself to the floor; with no room to struggle now but at least some distance to keep away.

His senses were overstimulated, an Alpha too close to him during heat, and his mind crashed at the overload, rebelling his most recent vow of ' _not giving up this time_ '.

_Pathetic._

Howard would spit at him if he could see him now, and hell, if he could stand in the corner and watch _himself_ squirm around on the floor like this, he'd call himself pathetic.

"You," Tony started, unaware he'd even spoken until he noticed the amused eyebrow Loki had raised toward him. He tried to turn his face away but Loki's foot kept him pinned and he shut his eyes against the humiliation. He'd seen enough porn movies to recognize a situation like this, and knowing what everyone called the Omegas - or Betas - in those movies just made the bad taste at the back of his throat swell.

He'd been called a whore before, but it'd been a joke. An affectionate joke.

Joke's over.

"You want my Company." He finished his sentence, his words now slurring as his heat rolled over him in full blast. Dizziness was only one of the symptoms Omega's suffered during heat but it had always been one of the ones Tony had, had more than others. And it was no different now.

"Perhaps." Loki grunted in answer, his hand squeezing over his own cock, balanced just over Tony's chest, and if it even touched the arc reactor, he swear he'd - "Perhaps not. There are other things in your name, Stark."

"So, so whatever you want, you need to go through me first." Loki didn't reply, and only shifted back, knocking one of Tony's legs back into place when it began to slide off of his hips. "You wanna - you wanna control the Avengers. Or SHEILD." He was panting now, his skin glittering with sweat, and, suddenly, he wished Clint were here. Steve made everything better, but Clint made everything funny. And he could really use a laugh right now. "It's - not going to work." He continued, warning Loki, but all he was met with was a blank face. "There're safeguards against that kinda thin'. Trust me. It won't work."

He moaned when Loki's hand cupped beneath his thighs, holding them further apart and in the air. His foot slipped further down Tony's face, the toes catching on his lips, until it was pressed against his throat and he gagged, lifting his head to push it away.

Loki leant forward, digging his toes into Tony's skin until tears pricked in his eyes and his face flushed at the blunt abuse. "As always, Stark. You talk far too much."

.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! I had a bit of writer's block, which is why it's not as good as the others :(
> 
> Any questions that have been asked in the comments will be answered as the story goes on :)
> 
> Enjoy XD

* * *

. 

Loki's foot pressed down further into his throat, and he gagged, choking and suffocating. His back lifted off of the carpet as he writhed over it for breath, struggling under Loki's hold and blinking against the pounding in his head. The rushing in his ears that drowned out the words Loki was snarling at him.

He shook his head, unable to comprehend anything Loki wanted him to do, and finally, thankfully, Loki slipped his foot off of him. Tony sucked in a breath, deep and harsh, and the tears that had welled in his eyes before slid down his face now. He didn't even bother to stop them, choosing to continue to struggle instead. He pushed himself back over the floor, and planted his legs that were still in the air onto Loki's chest to try and shove him away.

Loki's hands tightened their hold on his thighs, but when Tony's foot kicked out, not at his chest but at his head, he released him with a glare and a shout. Tony's legs fell to the floor and, for a moment, the air was knocked from his lungs and he lay there; dazed and bleary eyed through his heat.

Then, when Loki's hands reached for him again, when fingers brushed between his legs, he sprang up, jumping to his feet with a speed that surprised even Loki. He slipped over the carpet but still managed to get out from under him and, stumbling upright, he ran for the door.

The one that Loki had said led to a dungeon. Probably not the best idea right now, but who knew what was down there. If he made it somewhere dark, he could hide. Or at least, find something to use against him.

He collided with the door, however, when it refused to open and he barely managed to search for that weird paste before Loki's elbow drove into his back, sending him to his knees. The doors were opened then, possibly by magic, and he was literally lifted off of his feet by the back of his neck and thrown through them.

He landed on a sofa, in a dimly lit room, with stereotypical candles lined in a row on the shelves and walls.

"I thought - thought this was a dungeon." Tony wheezed, his arms shaking as he struggled to get up off of the leather sofa. Loki's answer was a cutting smile and he watched Tony slide around for a while, not bothering to hide his amusement, before simply lifting him off of it himself. A table was in the middle of the room, and seemingly oblivious to the nails Tony was using to scratch his face with, he set him down on his back on the polished surface.

Tony's brain swam, encouraging the hands that ran all over him and his heat was driving him crazy. But, with him completely pliant now, Loki didn't even bother to make sure he wouldn't move or try to run again, when he turned to kick a chair out of the way.

With Loki now facing away, Tony rolled off of the table, and ran for the doors again. At least this time, they were open, he could see they were open. And they were just there -

His ankle was grabbed in an almost lazy hold and he was flung into the wall.

Loki bracketed him with his arms against it, pushing him back into the wood, and his breath was cold over Tony's lips. "Run again, Stark, and you will _regret_ it."

"Get _off_ me!" Loki backhanded him for a second time that day, sending his head cracking into the wall.

Tony sagged against him when his legs were lifted, both of them in a single strong hold, and Loki's muscles coiled almost mesmerizingly as he held him there. With just his hands and without even straining.

He was strong. Really strong and _God_ Tony fucking hated him.

He never thought he'd hate anyone as much as he hated Loki, but now. Right now, when he was pressed up against a wall with more of those marble carvings looking down at him from the ceiling, watching with demon-like smiles on their faces, and with Loki's arms the only thing holding him up, all he could feel was a murderous desire to just _hurt_ him.

To kill him even. To let the Hulk have his way with him for hours, while he just sat there and watched it all with a bucket of salty popcorn. And maybe - no, not maybe, he will - when the Hulk was done, he'd have a go at hurting him. And he would be slow. Very, very slow.

Loki would be weak then, weak from the Hulk, and it would be all too easy. He'd been tortured before, many times, and he knew how to go about it himself fine.

He'd make Loki beg for him to stop, make him ask for his mercy and swear that he'd _never_ touch him again -

Loki shifted them both and pressed Tony further into the wall.

Loki lined himself against him, lifting Tony higher up the wall until he had no choice but to wrap his arms around the God's neck to stop his back from aching at the position.

" _Don't_ \- !" Tony didn't even realize he'd let that word out when Loki pushed in, until he noticed that his mouth was open, and the memory of his cry sent tingles down his tongue.

_He was letting this happen to him again._

Loki held him there, held him pinned, unyielding and unmerciful, and each thrust of his sent Tony's head knocking against the wall. His blood thrummed at the friction, his biology betraying him, but his pride held him back.

He would not, he would never enjoy something like this. No matter what the Omega in him wanted. If his Grandfather could fight it back, then so could he.

Loki seemed to sense his inner conflict of desires because he smirked at him again, all anger from Tony's struggles already forgotten, and he claimed Tony's lips in a bruising kiss. Biting, sucking his lip, and grunting into his mouth.

Tony turned his face away to one side when he pulled back, grimacing at the line of saliva that slid down his chin, and he closed his eyes against Loki's thrusts and against the look in his eyes.

"I'm going to kill you ..." He murmured, wincing when Loki thrusted harder, each thrust burying himself in deeper inside Tony, until the slap of skin-on-skin echoed in the empty room. "I swear, I'll kill you."

"You haven't the power, Stark." Loki murmured back, licking a line down Tony's neck, and when his tongue skimmed over the reactor Tony jerked in his grasp. Struggling again, harder than before, until Loki slid one arm under his knees to keep him in the air and used his now-free hand to squeeze Tony's throat.

When he couldn't see anything but black spots and blurred outlines, Tony gave up but he left his nails dug into Loki's skin - knowing that they'd be uncomfortable at least - and Loki's hand loosened around him. It stayed there, however, wrapped around his neck, and Loki used it's hold to keep his head still as he quickened his thrusts.

Tony grit his teeth, his face burning and flushed from the lack of oxygen and the humiliation that he could still feel bubbling in his stomach. Unless that was his heat, which just made everything 100x worse.

His head was turned when Loki's thrusts slowed, and his lips were pressed into yet another kiss, but this time Loki held him there as he moaned into his mouth. And it was just as Loki pulled away, that he felt the wet, warmth of seamen inside him and on his thighs. And it was as Loki pulled away, that Tony realized that he'd come as well. He hid his face in his arm as he turned his face away again.

Loki pulled out out of him horribly slowly, releasing both of Tony's legs at the same time, so that Tony slumped to the floor when he moved back. He bent his legs slowly, bringing them in toward his chest, and he wrapped his arms around his knees. Staring at the ground. He ached everywhere, and the bruises from being thrown around were throbbing all over his body.

He'd be pretty colorful tomorrow morning, and at that thought, at the thought of there being a tomorrow morning in this _place_ had Tony leaning forward, had his lips shaking, and had him retching all over the carpet.

Loki stepped back away from the vomit, and he waited until Tony was done before clearing the mess with a wave of his hand. Tony didn't look at him, didn't look away from his own legs, and bit his bottom lip hard.

Loki took a step toward him, and one of his boots - that he was still _wearing_ \- nudged the sole of one of Tony's feet. Tony jerked it away.

"Sleep." Loki ordered him, as calm as he always was. And when Tony finally did look up, he saw him casually - so fucking casually - walk out of the room. Just leaving Tony sitting there, naked, and shivering and filled with his cooling -

"Go to Hell." Tony spat after him, recoiling when Loki looked back over his shoulder at him to give him a look.

"Oh I have already been, my dear." He said, baring his teeth in a terrifying version of a grin, before shutting the doors behind him.

And at the hollowed echo of a lock, Tony blinked at the answer before attempting to quickly stand and go toward it. To scream through it about not just being left in here like some - like some kind of -

But his legs gave out from under him, buckling at the knees, before he could even get to his feet. And he fell, face-first, onto the carpet.

And somewhere, in the house, a clock chimed Two.

 

 

_**~** _

__

* * *

_**~** _

__

It was sunlight that woke Tony, and he turned his face away from it when it didn't seem to want to go away. It still seeped through his eyelids, however, and so with a groan he sat up, rubbing his eyes and glaring at the window.

Which was when he realized that it wasn't a window, and that the light was from a candle and not from the sun. Which meant that he wasn't at home which, in turn, meant that he was still here. In this house. Locked in the room that Loki had pushed him into and -

He darted his eyes toward the door, narrowing them when he could see that that white paste was now leaking through the cracks where it hadn't before. Which meant that the door was now been sealed shut instead of just being locked.

He slowly staggered to his feet, his limbs shaking, but he regained enough control to at least be able to walk, and when he finally reached the door he still felt stiff, yeah, but he could stand without falling to his knees. His stomach still cramped, but he was a while yet until his next heat cycle.

 _Thank God_.

Pressing his palm against the door, he drew back a fist to punch at the wood, to try his luck at breaking enough of it from around the handle until it opened. He wasn't just going to sit here like the housewife Harrod had wanted. But before he could even swing a blow toward it, the doors opened themselves with a light click and he fell through the gap between them.

He only stumbled though, he didn't fall, and logic told him immediately that it could only be magic that could open the door - like Loki had done before - and his heart froze in his chest when logic caught up completely. He backed up, pressing himself against the wall, and waited. Waited for Loki to walk in, and to throw him around. To force him to the floor again.

But nothing happened.

He peered through the gap between the doors carefully, and sure enough, the hall was empty. The doors opposite were shut and no one was on the stairs or by the rails on the first floor. But still, he waited. He was not going through something like that again and he wasn't risking himself by just walking right into Loki.

When he didn't move out of the room completely, the doors began to shut on him and he jumped out of their way with a bitten off shout. Breathing heavily and faster than was healthy, he took another step toward it. It opened at a single touch from his hand.

What? "... what?" He stared at the doors. Why would Loki lock them in the first place if he allowed Tony to open them anyway?

Unless. Unless this was a test of some sort. Or something. He wouldn't put it past Loki to do something twisted and sadistic to him if he left the room. To suddenly become visible and tell him it was all a ruse to check if he'd obey to simple rules like; asking an Alpha for permission to leave a room.

Tony backed up again, closing his eyes, and when the back of his legs hit the sofa, he let himself fall back onto it with a sigh. His legs still ached, and when he patted a hand between them, it came back spotted with red and white.

He wiped his hand on the sofa, cringing and holding back the bile in his throat, and when he looked up the first thing he saw was another statue. This one wasn't as weird as the ones on the ceiling and it was of a young boy and girl. They had a basket in each hand and the boy had half a loaf of bread in the other. It was life-like, and life-size, and he couldn't help but smile at it.

Hansel and Gretel.

Beside Gretel's head was a bronze box, half open already, and there was a handkerchief sticking out of the top. He reached for it, only easing himself off of the sofa when his hands barely brushed the cloth, and he used it to wipe at his face first, and then his legs, and then his ass.

Everything stung and throbbed at even the gentlest of touches, and when he was done he clenched his hand around the drenched cloth, and threw it at a wall. It landed on the marble head of a snake. An adder that almost seemed to be smiling at him.

He glared at it. A snake. A snake just like Loki was. Lying, sly and _poisonous_. He lifted a chair into his hands by it's leg and knocked it against the head. Two blows and it crumbled to the floor, leaving white dust to billow around it. He coughed when it blew into his face and turned away to throw the chair at the doors instead. They didn't open, and again, no one came to see what the noise was. To come and check if he was awake.

To come and hurt him again.

With a set scowl, he marched back toward it, ignoring any nervousness that he might've felt as he pushed against the handle. The doors creaked open yet again, and this time, he went through them and into the hall.

The front doors still didn't open, though. Of course they didn't, why would they?

Loki wasn't stupid and he definitely wasn't trusting. He'd given Tony no reason to want to stay here willingly so it was only logical that he'd sealed shut one of the only exits.

Still, Tony spent over an hour pounding at it with chairs, and with the broken snake head, and with his fists. He even used the candles to try and burn the paste away but nothing worked.

Why leave the other doors open? And why lock them before? Tony had remembered Loki locking the door as he left, just after ordering Tony to sleep, but it opened now.

Maybe Loki had wanted to do something without Tony barging in. Not that he would have, he would have stayed as far away from him as possible. But Loki had locked the door, and now, it seemed Loki wasn't even in the house. He'd gone somewhere, and Tony had no idea when he'd be back. And he'd regret it, if he spent the entire time just pondering on needless things and not trying to escape.

Tony frowned at the handles as he shoved his shoulders into the doors, hating that snakes were on almost everything. But then again, hadn't Thor called Loki a snake before? Maybe it was a nickname, or something. Or maybe, who cared?

It was creepy and that was what mattered. Actually, this whole _house_ was creepy, and the sudden quiet after everything that had happened in it, was the creepiest thing about it. Nothing made a sound besides him, and besides the grandfather clock in the corner.

He kept jumping at shadows, half-expecting each statue around him to be Loki standing there and watching him.

He really needed to get out of here.

He had already attempted to smash the grandfather clock, to see if there was anything in there that he could use, and that he could tinker with to make something that could help him get out of here.

But, unfortunately, when Barton had been under Loki's control he must have apparently told him of Tony's genius mind. Because anything, every _single thing_ that he could use, was either locked, sealed or not even in the house. He tried smashing glass, picking the inside of lamps, and overturning tables to break off the legs but nothing came off or broke.

It was like it was all of it made of something even stronger than it usually was. Magically bound to stop anyone from breaking or destroying it.

But the statues had broken easily enough, but that was probably because Tony couldn't really use them for anything. The snake head had bounced off of the window Tony had flung it at, without even leaving a scratch or a crack. And the hand he had broken off of Hansel had only succeeded in jamming itself in the door's handle instead of actually opening it.

When the grandfather clock chimed five, Tony slid to his knees beside the doors. Exhausted and out of ideas, and terrified for what Loki would do when he returned. There was no way out that he could find, no phone or way of contacting the outside world. And other than the shorts, there were no clothes, and Loki had ripped the denim anyway so he was just left bare.

His stomach cramped at the last chime of the clock and he groaned, panic overwhelming him when he assumed it to be his heat, but when it growled he gave a sigh of relief. Exerting himself like that in heat. No wonder he was starving.

The doors opposite the so-called dungeon opened at a touch from his hand as well, and he carefully stepped inside, still half-convinced that Loki had been here the entire time and that he would pounce on him the moment he entered. There was a bowl of fruit on the table in the middle of the room, but a single tap of his finger told him that they were made of metal.

Though an archway in the wall, he could smell bread, and his stomach growled again. He didn't care what there was, as long as there was food. The faster he ate, the more likely it was his heat would simmer down a little and that he could regain at least a little more strength.

He was even starting to get a headache.

The archway led to a kitchen, spacious and painted a blinding white. He blinked, noting that the light came from candles and lamps again and not the sun through the windows. He was beginning to think the windows were only one-way. He couldn't see through them and they gave no light. Maybe only from the outside could someone look through them?

He headed straight for the cupboard and felt a fleeting bit of disappointment that there was no cooker in the room. Gas could have been useful. He almost opened the cupboard before him when, in the corner of his eye, a blur of green and black stopped him. He froze, his heart thudding and his palms sweating, flight-or-fight coming into motion, but he didn't move for what seemed an hour

But. When nothing happened, when no Loki grabbed his wrists and kissed him, he twisted his eyes to the left, keeping his head facing the cupboard, and almost sagged against it with relief. It was a painting. Of a black ship, colored with blazing green sails, and an ocean rolling in storm beneath it. He tilted his head as he stared at it, surprised despite himself that Loki would even have something like that in his home.

If this even was _his_ home.

Turning away from the painting, Tony opened the cupboard and peered inside. He'd expected it to be empty and for the smell of bread to just tease him, but it was thankfully and actually, filled with food. No cans though, and nothing that he could melt with the candles and turn into something else to use.

Loki was smarter than he'd given him credit for, and he hated that. Hated that the bastard had thought of everything. Tony reached inside and his fingers skimmed over a plate, already overflowing with cooked food. Which may have been disgusting, seeing as it'd been in a _cupboard_ but there was some kind of casing over it anyway. And it was still warm.

Okay. At least Loki was interested in keeping him alive. He probably shouldn't trust the food though, so he just left it in there, and searched for something else that he could make himself. Opening the cupboards around him proved useless, though. Every one of them only held a single plate of food and a bunch of packets that he couldn't open. He groaned in frustration, scratching at his head and he ignored the grumbling in his stomach until he couldn't take it anymore.

He needed to eat if he wanted his heat cycle to delay a little, but he wasn't about to just eat something that Loki had left for him. Who knows what he could have done to it. But when his cramps twisted even more painfully inside, and when his hands started to shake, he merely grit his teeth and grabbed a plate from one of the cupboards.

He ate as he walked around, still trying windows and doors but nothing opened and eventually he just sat on the stairs and decided to eat in peace. The house was still eerily quiet and he twisted his shoulders into his neck when goosebumps erupted over his skin. It was really freaking creepy though, extensively so, and with the only light being the dimly lit candles and lamps, he had a reason to be nervous.

Especially since Loki could come back any second. When he was done eating, Tony dropped the plate down the stairs but it didn't even smash. And that was the last straw. He wasted the next half hour screaming at nothing, letting his anger out because there was literally _nothing_ he could do to stop Loki from coming back and finding him here. Finding him and having his way with him again.

However he wanted and whenever, Tony belonged to him now after all.

" _No_." Tony growled to himself, getting to his feet. He ran up the stairs, going through each and every door again, trying to find something, _anything_. There had to be a way out of here that Loki hadn't thought of. There had to be something.

The rooms in the hallway all opened at his touch, unlike this morning - or was it yesterday morning? He didn't know anymore - where they had shut against him and hadn't let him run from Loki. Hadn't let him hide.

He found himself in the room he'd first woken up in more than once, and had raided the boxes again but there was nothing. No clothes and no tools. _Nothing_.

Loki had planned all this and that thought alone made him just _sick_.

There was, however, a set of stairs at the end of the hallway, one set he hadn't seen before in his panic, but he'd avoided them so far. The steps looked old and unstable, and he did want all of his limbs non-broken and intact.

But, when he began to run out places to search through, he figured _fuck it_ and headed toward them.

He grabbed the bannister in a tight hold, careful and gentle, and climbed the stairs slowly, wincing at every sharp creak. There was a door at the top of them, but it wouldn't open when he touched it. Which either meant that it was private or that it was a way out. He turned, to ease himself down the stairs again and to find something to try and open _this_ locked door now as well, seeing as the front door wouldn't open, but when he did he froze.

Across the stairs, and in the air between them and the first floor ground, was a rope suspended from an old chandelier. And in the loop of that rope, sunken skinned and covered in dried blood, was the body of an elderly man.

Dead and hung. Twisting around in the air on the rope, as his eyes looked at nothing.

Tony stared. He stared. Shock sent his heartbeat to quicken and he only remembered how to breathe when the rope twisted the man's face away from his, so he couldn't see his eyes anymore. And then, when the body turned further away, he let go of the bannister and staggered down the stairs. Faster than he had climbed up them, and faster than was safe.

But. But when his feet touched the carpet of the first floor, and when he thought he could breathe properly again and in relief, he heard the tell-tale footsteps of Loki's boots on the floor below.

And instead of beating faster, his heart just stopped.

He's back.

. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any typos or mistakes I apologize for :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no rape in this chapter, but the rape aspect is still not over. Just a warning <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with this chapter, just to let you all know, but it's here because I can't make anyone wait any longer.

* * *

 .

Tony didn't wait for Loki to find him. He'd allowed himself a few wasted seconds of listening to Loki's muted footsteps from where he was standing right at the top of stairs, just hidden from view.

His hands felt clammy against his chest, fingers dug into the skin there, and he realized at that sharp press of pain, that he'd palmed them automatically to his reactor. Protectively.

With a soft bitten off curse, he chewed on his bottom lip and pushed himself away from the wood of bannister when Loki's footsteps grew too close for comfort, and ran for the rooms behind him again.

He tried to keep his footfalls as quiet as he could and as muted as Loki's were, but running on floorboards that likely formed a ceiling on the floor below, just seemed to cause faint tremors and he knew that if he ran, Loki would know exactly where he was.

So, forcing himself to slow down he literally tiptoed around instead, freezing every now-and-again when he heard a door close or a floorboard creak where Loki walked and he eventually found one of the smallest rooms in the house - or - Mansion.

Another door slammed downstairs and his entire body flinched, growing cold with the knowledge that, yes, Loki was looking for him.

He skimmed his palm over the wood just above the handle to the door, knowing that it would open at his touch, and grabbed it just before it could open itself with it's usual echoing click.

With it now silenced by his hand, he slipped inside it quickly, almost tripping over the rug that was placed over the carpet - over a _carpet_ , why would you bother? - before shutting it as softly as he could. He stood still for a few seconds, listening out to everything and breathing in rhythmically slow to try and calm himself down; though adrenaline was already running a little too high.

But then, when nothing else happened and when the door still remained shut under his hand, he turned from it and headed over toward the cupboards in the corner of the room. The ones he had discovered before.

Each of the rooms had them, tiny storage cabinets with their own fitted in lamps. They were at a child-like-height, but if Tony crouched as low as he could, then he could easily find their handles and could easily fit inside.

Pulling on a piece of white string that was attached to the door knob, he pulled it open and turned onto his stomach, pushing his legs inside the cupboard first, followed by the rest of him. It was cold inside, darker than he'd expected and it stank of the damp, but at least - and more importantly - it was nowhere near Loki.

He didn't think he'd even planned to hide the moment Loki returned, but evidentially his body had had other ideas, and had decided to lead him here while his mind had continued to push him through it. And now here he was. Huddled inside a cupboard with his heart beating faster than was healthy, and his ears completely focused on any sound that was coming from downstairs.

Pulling the door shut with the same string, he kept a hold of it just in case he was jammed inside here by accident - _God, that'd be horrible_ \- and he leant against the sloped wall behind him. At least it wasn't very cramped in here, or else he'd start to feel claustrophobic of all things, and that would just add some needless panic to his problems.

Though he was panicking already, really. Since Loki's disappearance, his anxiety about the situation he'd gotten himself into, had only increased all the more because now he'd no idea what was next for him here.

His third heat cycle wasn't due yet, not for a few hours, which aided the conclusion that after that first time - after Loki had taken him, and claimed him that night - he must have been unconscious for a lot longer than the half-day he'd first assumed, because he'd only woken due to his next cycle. Which would have needed at least 6-9 hours to build.

Meaning that after Loki had knocked him out, he'd had all that time to kill. He must have taken Tony, brought him to this place, dumped him on a bed, had done whatever shit he'd needed to do himself, and then - and then.

And then what? Had gone downstairs to have a drink, and wait for another of Tony's cycle, just so he could fuck him again?

That didn't sound right. Because, from what he'd seen and from what he'd heard, Loki was the kind of guy that didn't really sit still for too long. Who was always on the move, always plotting, doing something, working on something or -

And here Tony was, comparing himself to the guy once _again_. Just like he had when -

_Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?_

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, his mind now whirling back toward just who he had been with then. Who he'd been with when he'd first realized that he and Loki shared a few similarities with each other.

He felt his lids warm and prick, just as his eyes began to sting; a feeling he was unfortunately used to, but he held back everything because now wasn't the time.

And besides, there was no reason to feel like he was mourning them all, or something. It wasn't as though Steve was dead. He'll see him again. He'll see them all again.

He _will_.

Reopening his eyes, he tried to force himself to focus, but his mind kept tracing itself back toward the others. He wondered, with an almost deadening throb in his stomach, if anyone was even looking for him. If anyone even knew about all this.

He wondered if his team knew. If Pepper, or if _Thor_ , knew that it was all Loki doing this to him. He wondered what they thought of that, and what they thought of him now.

Well.

Judging from what they'd voiced of his previous reputation before, he didn't doubt that they'd think - at least once - that he might have wanted this. He knew that they'd think that was a possibility, though it hurt to acknowledge it all the same, but saving the world together didn't necessarily mean that they'd given each other their entire trust afterward.

He'd mostly still been regarded by his celebrity status since then, rather than the actual _Tony_ that he really was. So maybe what they thought about this really wasn't -

No. It didn't matter what they thought, and he shouldn't be focusing on this anyway because that would just make everything worse. It didn't matter what they said about him or what they did for him. Because whether they would want him back or not, they wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway.

Because by law, Loki was in the prime position, to - to _keep_ Tony as his own.

And due to an Alpha-bond being seen as more dominant compared to an Omega's needs in a relationship, the law would decree that if anyone tried to take Tony away from his Alpha, if anyone tried to rebuke Loki's claim on him, then Loki would be more than welcome to start his very own Trojan-War in New York, over it all.

A - NewYorkan War.

Tony pressed his knuckles into his eyes and groaned inwardly.

It would all be perfectly legal too - _God_ the system really sucked.

He should have invested more into all those Omega-right campaigns that he'd always seen going on. There were hundreds of pressure groups worldwide protesting against this kind of thing, but he'd never really paid much attention to it all.

He'd always thought himself that the Alpha he'd finally decide to settle with would only be his because Tony had _chose_ him himself, and that he would never use his dominant nature to control his Omega.

He'd always hoped for a healthy relationship, regardless of his biology.

Tony traced the bruises on his wrists. He'd hoped wrong.

And now, if his team did try to help him, if they did think he was the victim in all this, they'd only manage to incite an entire war instead of actually helping him. A war where they would be in the wrong.

With themselves, with Tony, and with whoever else might have gotten hurt in the process.

Because usually, Alpha-on-Alpha fights over one Omega would take place in stereotypical bar brawls or street fights, but this was the Avengers and this was _Loki_.

It would _be_ a full blown battle, which was kind of flattering in a sickening sort of way.

And knowing Loki, he would be very unlikely to pass off that kind of opportunity to cut down on the Avengers. He'd be the perfect Menelaus; arrogant, possessive and rude, and willing to just take what he thought was his. But then, if this was still going by Troy, then that would make Tony -

He rolled his eyes at himself, thinking back to his old school days and to all that Greek mythology. He'd always hated Helen of Troy. But at least Loki wasn't Paris because then that would mean that he and Tony would -

 _Click_.

He froze.

The door to the room he was hidden in - _hidden in_ , how pathetic - whined on it's hinges and eased itself open; and Tony practically stopped breathing.

He tightened his grip on the string still clutched in his hand, pressing his back further against the wall until all he could feel was the cold from the concrete seeping in through to his skin. Making him shiver horribly but he daren't move any more in case Loki heard.

Loki moved around the room as slowly and as deliberately as he had when he'd stalked Tony up the stairs this morning. And at every groan and cry of the floorboards, each and every one of Tony's muscles grew rigid until it was all he could focus on.

Focusing on the sound of Loki's footsteps and on how different they sounded, depending on just how far from Tony he was standing.

When the door at the front opened again, he almost let out a breathy sigh of relief, before swallowing it down in a hushed and choked gasp when the cupboard just beside him creaked open instead.

He could hear it, loud and clear as though he were inside it himself, and he pulled his legs closer to his chest; biting down hard on the inside of his bottom lip and placing a hand over the bruises on his left wrist.

 _Go **away**_.

The cupboard to his right was then opened, the door kicked off it's hinge judging from the sounds it made, but still Loki left the one he was sitting in closed.

Tony didn't move. He hardly breathed, and yet instead of remaining frozen, his muscles locked until he began to cramp.

He ignored the pain, ignored the urges his body gave him to stretch and to shake, but after two long minutes of complete silence from Loki, he didn't quite manage to hold back the sharp gasp that bubbled to his lips, when the door to his cupboard was finally pulled open in a rush.

The string in his hand was tugged away when the handle was torn off, and he found himself gazing up into Loki's blank and cold eyes.

But instead of feeling the fear or the hatred that he'd expected to, he only felt rather stupid with himself - hiding in a cupboard from someone who clearly knew the mansion back-to-front. Had he really expected to stay safe in here?

Loki planted his hands on the wall above the cupboard, looking down at him with a small and curved smile, but when he opened his mouth to speak Tony beat him to it.

"Did you kill him?" And, for some reason, that was the first thing he wanted to say.

Loki paused, dropping one hand from the wall to reach into the cupboard for Tony's face. Tony darted back from it, glaring at him.

"Kill, who?" Loki asked, his voice as smooth and calm as it always seemed to be. He grabbed Tony's shoulder when Tony still refused to let him touch his face, and he used that grip to slide him over the floor of the cupboard toward the edge.

Tony struggled under his grip, but when his arms were grabbed instead, he was practically hauled out of the cupboard in a single movement which left no time for him to even push back against it.

He did manage to shake the grip after that though, and he then took two steps back and away from Loki, rubbing his arms and still glaring for all that it was worth. "The man upstairs. Did you kill him?"

Loki stared at him for a moment, his eyes scanning over him briefly, before he turned away and headed for the door. "No." He murmured in answer, his back to Tony, and he moved like he was leaving. Like, finding Tony was all he'd wanted to do, and now that he'd done so, maybe he'd just leave him alone.

That particular train of thought, however, was brought to a horrid stop when he looked once over his shoulder and saw that Tony wasn't following.

Loki's expression darkened and he turned fully, walking back toward him in longer strides that had Tony scrambling back; trying to get something other than him - stools, boxes, drawers - into Loki's line of attack. But Loki tossed just everything to one side and shot out a hand to grab Tony by his arm once again .

Tony planted his feet firmly onto the carpet, digging his toes down to try and hold his ground, but when Loki _pulled_ all it served to do was give him a burn on the soles of his feet until he eventually gave up.

That didn't stop him struggling though.

"Let _go_ of me Snape, I can walk on my own two - " Loki released him when they stepped onto the stairs, and when Tony had only the one foot hovered in the air while the other teetered over the edge of a step. It was no surprise that the only way forward was for him to tumble into Loki's back, but what was a surprise was Loki catching him.

"Can you, indeed." Loki's eyes bored into Tony's as he spoke, holding his gaze easily, and the amusement in them almost led Tony to spit at him. To get rid of all that fucking sadistic _glee_.

But, thankfully, today he was thinking first before doing.

However, before he could even start to push himself away from Loki and to regain his footing, there were arms around his waist and around his thighs and he was being hoisted up.

Up and over. Tossed over Loki's shoulder like a limp sack.

"No -!" Loki placed a hand over his back to keep him still, and when he kicked out at him, his legs were only grabbed by the ankles and were squeezed until he was whimpering behind his teeth for it to stop. "Okay. ... okay," He mumbled, his voice low, resigned, "I get it, alright, I won't struggle." The squeezing let up, but he was still held tight. "Just - just stop it."

Loki didn't answer and, still holding onto Tony's ankles, he carefully stepped down the rest of the stairs until they were once again standing in the hall. The front door was open -fuck, it was open, and it was just there, he could -

When Tony saw it, he flopped over Loki's back, straining his arms and kicking just to reach for it but a single jolt from Loki knocked his head against it's frame and his eyes lost their focus.

And then, they were through into the room that had the table in it, and he couldn't see the door anymore.

"No, take me back, let me out ... " He didn't care that he'd said it aloud, but Loki answered him anyway by letting him hear the _click_ of the front door as it shut.

Shut again. Sealed, barred, and inoperable by Tony. "... you bastard."

Tony's back knocked against the table when he was literally dropped onto it's surface, and he immediately rolled off when Loki used his hips to pull him closer.

But instead of forcing him back, Loki walked past him and sat in a chair himself, seemingly oblivious to how Tony sprang back from him.

The table was round, and didn't exactly have a head, but there were still opposite ends and at Loki's gesture Tony stared at the seat that he'd been deposited in front of.

Um.

Loki didn't wait for him to catch on, and it was then that Tony realized there was a plate of food in front of him, and another at the seat Tony was supposedly meant to take.

Food. Food was good.

Food meant that there would be no - no rape. Food meant that Loki was stalling his cycle, for whatever reason. Maybe. Unless the food was spiked, which was another possibility.

Could be spiked with something magic or something even weirder - with something that could make Tony's third heat cycle fast-forward instead of prospo -

"Sit."

Tony snapped his eyes up at the order, staring as Loki took a bite out of the meat stuck to his fork, before taking a single step back from the table. Before he could leave the room however, the door behind him slammed shut and audibly locked.

He jumped around at the noise, startled, and immediately tried to open it; placing his palm over the handle just as he'd done so many times before, but it refused to reopen.

And while he tried a second time, pressing his palm onto it more firmly, the door leading to the kitchen also slammed shut and he winced. Digging his fingers into the gap proved useless and he wouldn't degrade himself to slamming his fists against it when Loki was watching.

Bowing his head until his chin touched his collarbone, he started to count slowly to himself in tens and in his head only. To 100.

When he completed the task that Bruce had once told him to try, he turned around again and took "his" seat wordlessly. Loki said nothing at this, and simply continued to eat but Tony neglected his plate, going as far as to push it away from him, and chose to glower across the table at Loki instead; putting as much hate into his gaze as he could.

But still, Loki said nothing, and in the end it was Tony who broke the silence.

"What is it exactly that you want from me?" Loki dabbed at his mouth with a cloth, wiping at it's corners while he gave Tony a faux-thoughtful look.

"There are certain things that you ought to know, Stark," He said, instead of answering Tony's question, and when Tony opened his mouth to repeat it angrily, he found his lips pressed together. Found them sealed shut with magic.

Loki blinked at him slowly from across the table, watching as Tony's fingers scrabbled over his lips in a moment of sudden panic - feeling around and trying to pry them open - before dropping his hands into his lap and sending anything that he felt on the matter through his eyes and through his facial expression. And he made it all clear, alright.

Loki's eyes flashed again in amusement at Tony's anger, as though anything Tony did to him was seen as only a small endearment rather than an actual threat. "The first rule I have for you," Loki continued, again eating from his plate as he spoke.

Tony clenched his hands into fists at the word _rule_ and breathed in slowly through his nose. Staring at Loki.

"You will live here from now on, as my Omega. You will be always here, even when _I_ am not." Tony felt his shoulders begin to rise as he tensed and he forced it down, tightening his fist when his fingers started to shake. "And you will not _ever_ leave here."

Tony leant forward, every instinct of his telling him to pounce on Loki and to attack him, but every other submissive instinct of his biology telling him to just sit and listen. The result of this brief conflict was a frenzied half-jump in his seat.

Nothing more and nothing really that effective. So instead, he kicked at the table with a muffled shout of anger, in the hope that Loki's plate would at least fall onto him.

It didn't.

Loki spoke over the noise he made, coolly, "The second rule," He took a sip of the water that was in his glass, watching Tony all the while. "Your team will be seen and mentioned as nothing more than a memory now, and your life before this, will be seen as less than that. Anything of yours is mine, you know this, and that include your team's home and belongings, in case you were unaware."

Tony's breathing hitched and he struggled to control himself, but how could he? He hadn't any control anymore, it was all being taken from him.

"The third. While I am in this house, you will serve me. With both your body and with your company."

Tony dug his fingers into his knees, his teeth grinding audibly behind his sealed lips.

"You will not try to escape, and any attempts to will be punished. Though," Loki flicked his gaze to the door behind Tony. "All attempts made today will be ignored, as I _can_ be merciful at times." Oh. So sealed lips can't hold back disdainful snorts. Who knew. "The mess you made, however, will be cleaned by you. As will any mess that you decide to make in this residence."

Tony's legs were throbbing now, but still he dug his fingers into them, hoping that the pain could overwhelm him enough that it could drown out the rest of what Loki had to say.

"When I am elsewhere, you are entitled to do whatever you may please to do. To the extent that it does not, of course, include attempting to leave." Loki used his fingers to lift a piece of cooked carrot into his mouth, and he spoke again just after he'd swallowed, "If I order you to do something, you will submit to your instincts and obey."

No. No he fucking _won't_.

"And the last rule, is that you will permanently remain bare whilst you are here. There is no clothing for you, Stark, and this "carpet" that lies atop the floor will sustain any warmth that you may need. I would likely grow tired of undressing you time and time again."

 _Oh, **poor** you_ , Tony thought viciously.

And with it now all said, Loki ate the last of his dish before standing. The door behind Tony opened slowly, but he didn't move, and didn't look up until Loki stopped just beside the bowl of the metal fruit.

He sucked in a short gasp, as soon as his lips were permitted to actually part, no longer sealed by magic.

And when he felt Loki's eyes on him, he couldn't just stay silent about all this, "Look," He said, his voice rough and almost pleading already, but he had to say this. He had to try. "I'm yours, okay," Loki gazed down at him, a curious smile making it's way over his mouth, "You claimed me, and I belong to you, and blah blah _blah_." He sucked in a breath, looking up at Loki properly now. " _But_ ," He was frowned at now, Loki's eyes narrowing at the simple conjunctive. "I prepared for something like this. I told you before, there are safeguards and -"

"I have your home, Stark," Loki interrupted him. "I have your livelihood, your weapons and your technology. And after this morning, your world knows it -"

"I still have government officials that were present when those forms were written." Tony argued, ignoring the comment about how this kind of news was spreading. He didn't want to know who knew just yet, he just wanted out.

"If I'm not in a relationship and I bonded, then they are at legal right to investigate this. And unless you want your ass handed back to Asgard for messing around with Midgard again, which I'm assuming you _really_ don't, then you'll have to let them in to have a little look around. And JARVIS - my AI - also has to scan me with them present, and my representative needs to see me actually give my consent. That'll be James Rhodes, army official and friend of yours truly."

Loki's fingers tapped the apple on the bowl, sending a metallic ring to echo around, but Tony spoke over it, ignoring how fast his heart was beating now, "Plus the fact, that if you don't let this happen, you'll face charges and your brother will be able deliver them straight to your father. So once it's all over and done with, it'll be clear that this bond was forced, and it'll be bye-bye you."

Okay, so half of that was a lie but that didn't matter. Loki probably didn't care about being legal anyway, unless it worked in his favor, but the threat about his father was completely real and judging from the look on his face it had effected him in some way at least. Something that had to work for Tony.

But then, Loki ruined it all.

He smiled down at Tony from where he stood and he waved a hand over the apple he'd tapped slowly, turning it from metal to real. He offered it to Tony first, before taking a bite out of it when it was refused, and he spoke then; with his smile still there. "Since I discovered what you were, Stark, I have done some "investigation" of my own,"

Tony knocked the hand that reached for his hair away, "Look, just give me your answer and -!"

"Your safeguards mean nothing. Those so-called forms have all been destroyed and any who knew of them, no longer remember," Tony stared at him, refusing to let his expression show anything other than anger, "Your Colonel is aware and remembers it all, but as no one - as you said - _official_ does, he can do nothing. And neither can you."

_He'd seen Rhodey. He'd spoken to Rhodey, and had told him what he'd -_

"No," Tony jumped out of his seat when Loki approached him, backing up, "No, it's not that simple, you can't just-" Tony stumbled over another chair behind him, "There are still other things that I can -"

"It _is_ that simple, Stark. And as encouraging a liar as you strive to be, I can still see that plainly." Loki took another bite out of the apple, leaning against the edge of the table, while Tony continued to back away from him,

"Now," He said lightly, as though he hadn't just ripped out the last of Tony's hope, "Have you understood all my rules, or are there any that I should make clearer for you?" He rolled the apple in his hands, "The punishments, perhaps?"

Tony stared, "I -" He looked away, and then looked back, unclenched his hands and lowered his eyes. And then, cleared his throat, "Look, just listen to me okay," He started again, biting the inside of his cheek when his back hit the wall behind him, "I get that you want me to stay here. To stay here with you and where you can always find me, but hear me out about this first. If you - if you let me go home, then I promise -" He shut his eyes, "I'll _promise_ , that whenever you come to me, I'll - I'll do what you want,"

 _God_.

"Just let me live in my own home, with my friends and with my team. Let me live my life. I'll still be your Omega and I'll still let you - let you _use_ me, but only if you let me leave. If you let me have my freedom and my life back. _Only_ then."

 _Please_.

He'd die sitting here day after day, just waiting for Loki to return from wherever he decides to go and to just abuse him. That is not going to be his life, not if he can help it.

His heart beat in his throat as he waited for an answer, as he stared at Loki licking the juice from the apple off of the side of his wrist. Waiting and waiting.

But then, when Loki did open his mouth to speak, when he uttered a final, quiet and calm; "No": Tony let himself slide down the wall to his knees. Let his expression shutter and he stayed there, watching as Loki crossed the rest of the room to leave, but before he did.

Before he locked Tony away somewhere again, Tony tried one last time, "Please."

Loki barely glanced at him and his answer ended up being the door shutting, and the plate of food that was still on the table vanishing.

And for the first time since all this had started, when everything had been taken from him, Tony realized that he literally had nothing to hold onto anymore.

That it wasn't just speculation now, but fact. There _was_ no one out there that could help him, and anything that could have was now disabled. He was lost.

Alone in all this.

And, despite not having done so in three years, despite knowing it was stupid to, he put his face into his hands and he sobbed to himself.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> *Crosses fingers and hopes Tony's still as in-character as he can get in this kind of situation.*


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curious, and curiouser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry that this is so late.
> 
> I lost motivation, then I had problems, then I had no time, then I had exams, then I had a whole two weeks of pure bad news that depressed me and then I had two weddings to go to ...
> 
> So ... been busy :) But here you go XD

.

The cupboard wasn't broken. Neither were the drawers. The cutlery was littered over the floor, but hadn't even dented. The windows weren't scratched or smashed, and the table was completely intact.

And yet, every single one of Tony's fingers were either bruised or bleeding. His nails were chipped and there were cuts on his wrists, elbows and face. His eyes stung from his dried tears and he could feel the flush of his next cycle building up over his skin as he pushed and kicked at everything in the room.

The doors at the end opened when he touched them but he'd slammed them shut when he'd seen Loki lounging on one of the chairs outside. The mess that Tony had made had vanished - despite what Loki had said before about making Tony clean it up - but that was all Tony had had the patience for seeing before he'd turned away.

Trying to destroy everything hadn't exactly been a rational decision but his instincts had always led to destruction in moods like this, though the satisfaction hadn't yet come because every damn thing in this house was fused together. Nothing had broken or even cracked, besides anything on Tony's body itself.

Now - exhausted, defeated and, really, just so miserable - he was huddled in the corner, doused in sprinkles of water from the sink in the hopes that his scent would be covered enough by it to be hidden from Loki's instincts, and shivering as his cycle built up once again.

Heat pooled in his stomach and he tightened the muscles in his thighs when they started to ache.

Loki hadn't come a-knocking or looking for him yet but he knew that it was only a matter of time, and fuck if Tony tried hiding again. It hadn't worked before and it wouldn't work now, but he still felt sick just sitting here like this; waiting for the inevitable.

Fighting back had proved useless already; skin-to-skin contact generally just made Tony want to crawl against Loki's skin and let him do whatever he wanted, which was not exactly the kind of trail of thought that he'd really want to go over.

Hiding, shouting and trying to talk had also been proved useless. Tony bowed his head between his legs; letting out a startled gasp at the sharp stab of pain in his side. Either he was still sore from everything Loki had done, or his hunger was affecting him again.

"Two more days", he whispered to himself, "Just two more, and you'll have a clearer head." He'd be able to plan then, manipulate even - maybe - and _think_ clearer at least, "Just two more - "

The doors opposite him clicked open and he was on his feet in an instant.

Loki barely looked at his way as he staggered to his feet, and simply turned to close the doors with the sort of finality that only he could really get away with.

Tony's chest heaved as he stared at him, aware that he was cornered already, and sweat slid down his skin as his body started to betray him once again. With the door now shut and locked, Loki began to cross the room toward him; striding long and slow and - and as fucking calm and casual as he always was.

Tony side-stepped past the walls, going around the table and going further away from Loki. Not exactly running because - minus the adrenaline his body seemed to think he didn't need - he really didn't have the strength to try and do that again.

He was still bruised from his last attempt.

Loki paused, turning to look at him with one amused eyebrow raised, "This again?" He drawled and Tony didn't answer, just continued moving in whatever direction was the opposite of where Loki was heading.

He didn't think Loki the type to leap over furniture to grab someone, but that didn't exactly rule out the magic or the strength and the thought of those made Tony's heart pound almost painfully at the reminder; though he still kept trying to move away anyway.

Because right now. Right now, he was amusing Loki. And an amused Loki was better than an angry Loki.

"Yep," Tony answered finally, speaking a little louder than necessary to mask whatever fear he could already feel rippling through him, "This again."

Loki turned abruptly, walking in the same direction as Tony now, "Do you not ever learn from your mistakes, Stark?" He sneered.

Tony turned as well, keeping up with the banter as much as he could without letting his voice shake, "You know, you really don't scare me, so you can drop the intimidating tone already."

"Oh but I am not _trying_ to scare you," Loki murmured, now coming to a halt entirely. Tony continued for a bit until he noticed, then quickly stopping where he was as well, his chest aching and throbbing with all kinds of emotions, "If I were, you would be trembling at my feet right now," He grinned then, sharp and cutting, "Which, admittedly, is not so bad an image to imagine."

"Fuck you." Tony spat, planting his hands behind him on the wall just in case he needed to push himself away from it in a minute.

Loki's expression darkened, and oops, there goes the amused-Loki.

He was beckoned with a single finger, which was ignored, and only made Tony bristle at the -

"Come here." Tony stared at him, half-certain that his face had morphed into an accurate expression of: ' _Are you serious right now, you asshole_ ', "Remember my rules, Stark, and obey. I'm sure you would rather not be punished so early on."

The finger beckoning him curved and Tony blinked sharply at the effect it had on him.

A slightly pull on bone, a thrum through his veins and an invisible tug over his chest had Tony walking forward when neither his brain nor body had directed him to.

Loki's finger curved again as he sat on one of the chairs beside the table, beckoning Tony closer and each gesture brought another forced tug that had Tony stumbling at the set pace.

“Stop it - “ Tony gripped the table as he was forced past, trying to stop himself from walking, but the wood only creaked under his fingers as he continued on; until he stood before Loki.

The tugging disappeared, and with a split second of hesitation Tony immediately spun around; his left foot lifted into the start of a run but he was grabbed by his waist before he could even push off to. 

Loki's hand clamped over his mouth as he bucked on his lap and he yanked Tony's head back by his hair when he bit him. The pain lasted only a second before Tony shouted as the position intensified the throbbing in his stomach.

" _Ah_ \- "

Loki's tongue found his neck and Tony closed his eyes, turning his face away and managing to elbow Loki once in the ribs before he was spun around and held firmly over strong thighs and hard knees.

The amusement was back, the shadow of a grin on Loki's face, but it disappeared when Tony spat at him. His arms were then held in a tight grip and forced around Loki's shoulders, as the inside of his own wrist was used to wipe his own spit off of Loki's bitter little face.

He pulled back, arching his spine and spreading his legs to try and slip off of Loki but with his arms now around the guy's shoulders, all he could do was just grab a hold of them and grip tight when he was suddenly hoisted into the air.

“I would hold on,” Loki advised him, shifting them both together, and holding Tony’s legs apart for his use.

"Is this - _seriously_ all that you want me for?" Tony panted, pressed flat against Loki and he grimaced at the thought of the arc reactor touching that chest, "Is this seriously what you expect me to _live_ like?" He had to know, he had to know if Loki really was as insane as he acted and looked, "For the rest of my _life_?"

"Of course not," Loki huffed out, a smirk spreading over his lips that only widened when Tony had no choice but to bury his face into his neck, letting out a low whine as Loki pushed into him, "When you begin to grow old, I'll simply kill you."

Oh. Okay then.

Tony lifted his head from Loki's neck, leaving their faces just an inch apart, and after that answer all he could do was just stare at him in complete disbelief.

Loki clearly didn't feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny and simply thrusted into Tony from the awkward angle, watching from their so very close proximity, as either pain or pleasure bloomed over Tony's face.

At another thrust Tony looked away - his hands tightening over Loki's shoulders as he kept up a repeat of: ‘ _Two more days_ ’ in his head - as Loki quickened his pace and hardened his thrusts. He blinked past the sweat in his eyes, and dug his chin into the skin at Loki’s neck as he looked over the shoulder there at the mess he’d made in his anger.

Loki hadn't commented on it yet, but there was no doubt that he would afterward - when both their instincts had settled down a little - or in Tony's case, when they finally let him think something other than ‘Get something in me right now, I need it’.

Like escaping, for one, because he _really_ should be thinking of that right now. This was all too easy for Loki to just take, but with the Alpha genes, magic, and with Tony in cycle, he was very likely to win the first few rounds.

That's fine - Tony told himself, a light moan slipping out of his mouth as Loki adjusted them - that's fine. It's fine. He'll get out of this yet, when he’s out of heat he’ll work this out, he will.

And there would be no way he was leaving without Loki having a little pain first.

Loki shifted them again and Tony bit his lip hard, feeling every muscle grow weak as his heat finally got what it wanted.

He focused on the mess instead, pinpointing everything else out, because it was easier.

The cutlery from the drawers glinted in the candlelight and Tony blinked when some shined into his eyes. On the table beside them - the table that Loki had leant one hand on to support Tony's legs, so he could thrust in a little deeper - had a couple of spoons on it; just near the candleholder.

Tony focused on them, because why the hell not?

It was better than focusing on everything else.

The spoons were smooth, silver and tinted, and surprisingly had no snakes on them. The forks did, however, and when Tony had tried to use them to snap the window's ledge off, they hadn't even bent in the slightest.

The one knife beside the spoons was sharp - sharper than Tony had expected it to be when he'd grabbed it, but the only thing it had really cut seemed to be skin because the wall it had been flung at has literally flung it back at Tony until he'd had to duck when it rebounded.

And the candles were -

Wait.

Knife.

_Knife._

Tony blinked sharply, shaking the hair out his eyes but before he could find the knife again, Loki buried himself deep inside him with a vibrating groan. Tony stiffened as Loki held him there, clutching at his back and sighing into his neck. He froze at the tongue over his skin, still looking over Loki's shoulder, because he needed - he needed it, where was -

There!

Just by the candleholder.

Well within reach.

Loki barely pulled out of him before thrusting again and Tony let his moans spill out now, mostly because keeping them in had just seemed to hurt his throat if nothing else, and also because they could act as a distraction for Loki.

At the either pain or pleasure-filled sounds now flowing out of Tony's mouth, Loki slowed his thrusts, as though he wanted to savor them and Tony almost bit into Loki's shoulder in retaliation to the idea.

He needed to reach behind Loki for the knife, he needed Loki to not catch him - he needed his eyes closed.

Leaning his head back Tony looked down at Loki from his lifted angle, breathing heavily with his lips apart and already bitten from his own teeth. He lowered his lashes slightly; giving the impression that he was either dazed or horny.

Loki didn't seem particularly impressed, at least not until Tony bent his head at the neck to kiss him.

At that, Loki's hands tightened over Tony's body and he pulled him closer, kissing him back harder than necessary until Tony moaned again, from just the feel of Loki's lips against his. It was horrible, knowing just who it was he was kissing, but keeping one eye open he could just about reach for the knife now and he’ll have a -

Loki shifted them again, leaning away from the table, but before bitter disappointment could flow through Tony his hand brushed over the handle and he grabbed at it just at the last second; before it could have been out of reach.

It scraped over the table as he lifted it and, panicking a little, he hissed loudly at a harsh thrust to cover the sound.

One of Loki's hands slipped up over his back and to his neck, cupping it in a rough hold and squeezing it. Tony gasped at the abrupt violence, suddenly thinking that Loki really would kill him early after all, but at a low groan from the God in question he guessed that there was probably another reason.

There was always another reason with him.

"You tighten like that," Loki murmured to him, answering Tony's question before he'd even thought of asking it, and he squeezed Tony's neck again, "When I hurt you like this."

"Right," Tony murmured back, deliberately being as vague as possible and - maybe it was because of the lack of struggling or because of the lack insulting that he was giving, but Loki's eyes flashed at his low tone and he pulled them both closer. _Perfect_. "You enjoy that, Loki."

Loki's surprised smile sent the last snap of anger that Tony needed and his hand clenched around the knife as he drew his arm back, bringing it slicing down between Loki's shoulder-blades.

“Oh - "

Loki's eyes widened as they stared at him, glazing a little and the amusement ebbed away slowly.

Tony swallowed as he felt the knife sink in, the skin under his hands thick and hard but it yielded to the knife at least and he pushed it in deeper - his face still so close to Loki's that he could hear soft sound of surprise that he’d let out at the stab.

With gritted teeth, Tony twisted the knife in further, not caring how much damage he could cause but just knowing that it was _hurting_ Loki.

He was hurting him. He was finally hurting the bastard.

"Enjoy that, do you?" He growled, twisting the knife again and though no other sound came out of Loki's mouth to suggest so, the pain was apparent, "Do I fucking _tighten_ like _this_? Does this feel good for you?"

Loki's eyes darkened and he pushed at Tony, shifting them together making Tony gasp as he moved inside him - _still inside him, God_ \- and he was shoved over the table's surface. He kept a fierce hold on the knife, keeping it pressed in, and after seeing the anger and pain in Loki's eyes he couldn't help but grin at him.

"Not so much fun when I fight back is it?" He sneered.

Loki paused, his eyes narrowing and suddenly so very intrusive that Tony paused as well, his fingers still tight and clasped around the knife's handle. What was he -

Then. Suddenly.

Grabbing his hair with one hand, Loki yanked Tony's head down over the table, and when Tony tried to kick him in return, he kissed him.

If he could even _call_ this a kiss. Kisses were meant to be romantic - sweet even - or at least full of passion. And completely consensual. _This_ was not a kiss.

Loki swallowed Tony's protesting scream of rage as he pressed his lips to his, and in mid-heat the feel of Loki's tongue running over his own sent warmth thrumming through Tony's body; making him shiver and moan and arch toward Loki.

Bastard. Fucking fucking _fucking_ Bastard.

He’d almost gotten over the cycle, he’d even felt a burst of adrenaline with the stab, and now Loki’d just -

Loki pulled away, his teeth scraping over Tony's bottom lip just the once before he smiled at him; sharp and piercing, and in the reflection of his green eyes Tony could see himself - wild-eyed, hair mussed and mouth open and wet.

So, yeah, he could see the attraction. But that didn’t mean -

“Not fun?” Tony gaped up at him, "It's starting to be." Loki murmured in answer to Tony's angry statement, his voice low and raspy.

And when he shifted inside Tony again, Tony hissed and yanked on the knife hard, making Loki cry out as well.

Now the anger was back and both Tony's wrists were pulled around from behind Loki's back and held over his own head. He struggled against the tight grip, gritting his teeth when the bones ground together as they were held there.

But they were released anyway when Loki used his hands to pull the knife out of his back.

With Loki’s attention elsewhere, Tony reached around behind him and grabbed a hold of the candleholder behind him. He lifted it up, straining at the weight of the brass and - when Loki snapped his head up to look at him with a confused frown - he brought it smashing down over his head.

The knife clattered to the ground when Loki dropped it.

A tense silence followed, almost deathly silent, and Tony shut his eyes at the crack he'd just caused; flinching at the broken clay that sprayed over his bare chest afterward.

When the silence continued and Loki did and said nothing else, Tony risked slowly opening his eyes again - a sudden, optimistic side of him telling him that hey, maybe he'd even knocked the guy out - but when his lashes caught against Loki's he guessed that optimistic side of him was also kind of an idiot.

The candleholder had actually broken though, which was more than what Tony could have achieved on his own at least but he couldn't exactly use it right now so that was pointless as well.

And, though the candleholder had split in half, Loki wasn't even bleeding at all, and from the angle he was bent over in the cut that Tony had given him with the knife could barely even be seen.

Pain had definitely been in Loki's eyes, but evidently, not enough because he'd either healed really quickly or had been faking the entire time.

One was more likely than the other.

"You faked." Tony said before really thinking it out, but Loki didn't seem to even hear him as he leaned over him.

“Did any of that seem like a good idea?” Loki asked him, so fucking patronising that Tony wanted to spit at him again, just to wipe all that amusement off. When Tony didn’t answer, however, Loki hit him in the face. The blow made him bite his own tongue and spun his head to one side.

Tony blinked twice, more hurt than shocked if he was honest with himself, but he didn’t bother turning his head back when Loki grabbed his now unresisting wrists and thrusted into him; slowly.

What was the point?

He was still breathing heavily from the mini-little-fight-thing they'd had, and disappointment flowed through him bitterly as he lay there over the table, the knife on the floor and too far now. It’d been useless anyway.

Why was everything he tried to do turn out to be so useless?

God, no wonder no one was coming to save him.

He wouldn’t.

Tony closed his eyes when he was thrust into again, ignoring the soft sighs of pleasure coming from Loki, but they flashed open again in surprise when Loki stopped moving and suddenly lifted him again.

“Shit - “

He clung to Loki's shoulders to stop himself from falling backward, but Loki twisted him around anyway, sliding an arm under his knees and placing the other around Tony’s shoulders.

Tony bucked in the hold but Loki only curled his arms in, pressing his face and chest Loki's own and he dug his nails into the nipple there to try and at least show his protest - seeing as voicing it never seemed to do anything.

Loki turned and carried Tony as he walked out of the room.

"Keep at that, and you will sorely regret it." Loki warned him, grimacing when Tony's nails scratched, "You are in heat Stark, as I’m sure you remember, and if I leave you now you will be in pain. Whether you want this or not, you cannot argue with that fact."

"I have my fingers." Tony argued, digging his nails in harder until Loki shook him roughly to stop him.

"But is that _really_ what you want?" Loki grinned down at him, walking up the stairs now.

Tony glared up at him, "I don't want you more."

"Oh I’ve gathered," They came to the door that led to the room that Tony had woken up in before. Loki’s knee brushed against Tony's back as he kicked it open, jarring Tony a little and his nose bumped against Loki's chest hard, making it throb, "But fingers cannot solve what your Alpha can."

Tony twisted in his hold at that, harder now, and let out a sharp cry of surprise when he was dropped. His stomach squirmed when he landed on the bed, the sheets bunching beneath his scrambling, "You are _not_ my Alpha." He spat.

The bed dipped as Loki knelt on it.

"We - bonded, yeah, but it doesn't _mean_ anything. I don't care about you, and you sure as _fuck_ don't care about me. You're my Alpha officially, but other than that, you're _nothing_ to me."

Loki glanced over him and Tony wanted to move out of the position he was currently in - sat with his knees drawn up and spread and leaning back on his hands - but he had nowhere else to move to.

"Are you finished?" Loki asked him coolly, not seeming the slightest bit fazed by Tony's little rant.

But.

But when Tony tried to crawl backward and away, his face suddenly morphed into something a lot more threatening than just anger.

“I - "

“I _asked_ if you were finished.”

“I’m finished.” Tony said, keeping his voice calm though heat still pooled in his stomach and though his heart was pounding, “I’m done.”

“Good,” Loki leant closer, making the bed dip even more until Tony was sliding toward him, “Because I _think_ that already you need a reminder of my rules, don’t you. You need a reminder of what happens to you when you disobey.”

“All I’ve done is shout, you sadistic little - “

“You stabbed me Stark," Loki smiled now when that shut Tony up, but the anger still glimmering in it only made it look a whole lot less human on him, " _Very_ sly of you, as well. I barely saw the knife in your hand before you attempted to harm me. Well done."

_Shut up._

Loki’s eyes were still glinting and Tony swallowed now, his mouth and throat dry and constricting.

The prospect of punishments hadn’t seemed too important before - Tony had known he’d break these rules, he just didn’t think he’d be so scared of the consequences.

But Loki was dangerous. Loki was a killer.

Loki was _sadistic_. He was unstable.

'Punishments' … could really mean anything with him.

"You look frightened," Loki murmured, tilting Tony's face up with his hand, "It suits you." Tony glared at him, jerking his face away, but before he could spit out an an insult to match that remark he was dragged down the bed by his legs and pinned onto his side.

“No. No more, I - “

“I don't recall giving you permission to speak, Stark.”

Tony kicked out when Loki shifted closer until he was beside him, fisting his hands into the sheets as his elbows swung to the side; hoping to catch onto Loki somewhere where it hurts and to stop him.

Loki’s fingers drummed over his spine.

"Stop it, already” Tony spat, his mind racing, “My cycle's over!"

Loki didn't even bother to comment on that lie and just pushed into him again, using one hand to press hard over the side of Tony's hip as he held him down; keeping him with his back flush against Loki's chest.

The other arm was wrapped around Tony's waist and it shook them both as Loki sped his thrusts. Tony bit his lips, held them shut with his teeth, and his face burned because this was exactly what his heat wanted, and exactly what he himself hated.

Loki grunted in his ear, kissing it as he did: softer than anything Tony ever thought he was capable of.

He was moving faster now, no longer caring about taunting Tony or about giving himself pleasure, and only following through with instincts instead; responding to Tony's pheromones and only trying to get release as soon as he could.

Fuck him. Just fuck -

Tony thrashed when Loki's fingers brushed over his reactor, and he let out a strange sound of panic when those fingers then dug around the sides.

“No don’t, don’t.”

And surprisingly, Loki didn’t.

Instead he twisted Tony's legs around with a face so cold, it burned into Tony as he stared up at it. Loki twisted the legs until they curled against Tony's chest uncomfortably. Until it was incredibly painful when he was thrust into again.

Why -

At a third thrust a sharp spike of pain ran into Tony and he cried out, blinking twice as tears pricked in his eyes at the stings of pain and soreness. Loki continued to thrust, holding Tony’s position in place, and either oblivious to how much it hurt or just not caring.

Tony’s breaths grew heavier and he bit down on his fist.

Heat made Omega's wet and ready, yes. Made them all nice and open for an Alpha's invasion - _Tony hated his biology_ \- but holding them in any position that sent a thrust into the wall instead of _in_ meant that each thrust rubbed them raw. Made them burn from the inside instead.

Loki must know that.

He would know that, he'd -

 _God_ that hurts!

Another thrust sent a stinging whip of pain over Tony’s spine and he thrashed again over the sheets, trying to get away.

He was a little hard now, had been half-hard before as a result of his heat cycle rolling up, but now - adding both sensations to all this - only made it worse and he actually screamed when Loki's fingers squeezed around his cock.

"Don't - stop, that hurts, that _hurts_!" He couldn't keep that back, couldn't shut himself up because he was panicking so much, but Loki continued anyway.

He didn't care.

Loki must be close now, or at least he should be, but still Tony moaned low and pained as each thrust burned. He'd never felt pain in sex before, not like this, and not for so long.

" _Stop_ ," He hissed out raggedly, dragging a hand around to try and push Loki away by pressing on his hips but Loki just leant over him; muffling Tony's next scream with the sheets as he shook limply with the thrusts.

The pain burned through him, and he knew now, he knew that this must be one of the punishments. He’d stabbed Loki, had hit him with a candleholder, and this - this was the result.

He screamed into the sheets again when a thrust hit him hard, sure he was bleeding now, and he nearly sobbed but still Loki thrusted.

“Stop!” He shouted, sounded strangled and hoarse. He lifted his head up a little, to take a breath and to let his voice be heard, “Stop it, okay, I get the picture now and you - ah - _stop_ , please it hurts …”

“I know.”

His head was pressed back into the sheets, and he lay there, limp and moaning, and everything trembled when Loki came inside him.

He didn't move when Loki pulled back, shock from the pain still thrumming through his body, and he kept his face pressed down there as he waited for Loki to get up leave him; to let him recover just as he'd done since this had all started.

He wanted time, he needed time.

He wanted Loki _out_ and gone.

"Get up." Loki ordered him, forever going against whatever it was Tony wanted the most.

Tony refused to move. He didn't even think he could.

He was still shaking as everything stung and itched, throbbing from the inside out, and when he tried to unclasp his hands from around the sheets that they’d fisted themselves into, they ached and stiffened.

Loki didn’t wait for him to recover, didn’t have the patience clearly, and he grabbed Tony by the waist; turning him over and around slowly.

"Get off me." Tony whispered, though he moaned when Loki kissed him again, twitched when fingers prodding at the skin between his legs and over his thighs, "Stop it. You're done. You're - you’re fucking serviced. So just fuck off, now."

Loki looked down at him with almost no emotion at that, and Tony’s answer was slipping four fingers into him in a harsh plunge that had Tony nearly sitting up in surprise.

“Oh, God, can’t you just - _fuck_!”

The fingers thrusted four times, curving and scissoring while Tony whimpered and squirmed over the sheets, but when he did finally come, Loki's hand was there to catch it all.

It disappeared in an instant - Loki hadn't even moved his mouth, was his magic really that _advanced_? - and Tony tried to curl up in shame. He’d had enough, he’d completely had enough and he just wanted to sleep.

Sleep was good. Sleep would make it better.

He stiffened when Loki collapsed beside him on his back.

He bounced a little on the bed at the sudden weight thumping down near him, and he chanced a glance at him.

It was a little human, that movement of laying like that when you were tired, but before Tony could contemplate over that, an arm wrapped around him and yanked him back.

His back hit Loki's chest again and in a brief, fleeting moment of panic he thought Loki was going to start up again, before he'd even recovered - before -

But Loki didn't move.

He just lay there.

Tony blinked, staring at the wall opposite and his heart gave an irregular beat of fear when he caught sight of his own reflection.

Behind him, he could see Loki's head laying over the pillows, and when he tried to wriggle out from under the arm around him, it only tightened and he was forced to lay still.

Loki met his eyes in the mirror and, "Sleep." came the regular order, "Willingly, if you will, but if you do choose struggle, know that I will use force."

Blood speckled Tony’s thighs as he looked himself over in the mirror.

"I'm down with willing." He said, still staring at his own bruised reflection.

Loki stretched beside him and the sheets were pulled out from beneath them by nothing - magic, again - and Loki draped them over them both.

"Good." He murmured softly, and promptly closed his eyes.

Tony swept his eyes over the room, already knowing from his recent explorations that there was nothing in here that he could use, and he knew that the front door was locked.

There was nothing he could do, and nowhere he could go.

The grandfather clock downstairs chimed, the sound echoing everywhere as Tony continued to stare into his reflection’s eyes; still shaking from everything that had happened.

His throat constricted as he tried to swallow and he blinked back bitter tears that stung behind his lids.

At the last chime from the clock, he shut his eyes.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any typos and mistakes.
> 
> I'm curious to know your thoughts, so feel free to voice them ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Lord where are you. Do not forget me here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I am so so sorry for this being so late. Blame _Two Hearts From Hell._ I had such bad writers block for that fic but I wanted to keep the rota I have of updating in a set order so I couldn't update this until I did so with that one first and ... one thing led to another and this ended up taking FOREVER to update.
> 
> So. Sorry? <33 Hopefully this chapter makes it up to you ;)
> 
> \- it's extra long as an apology ^_^ -

.

The stairs creaked under Tony's feet as he eased himself up them. 

Loki had left again, left him bleeding and shivering on the bed and hadn't come back for almost five hours now. He'd really only, at first, just sat on the edge of the bed, trying to recollect himself but then he'd gotten restless and itchy with a sense of fear that he couldn't seem to shake off.

He'd picked at scabs and cuts, had gotten a cloth from the bathroom to clean away all the filth left over on his skin and while doing do, has realized that all he was doing was just reminding himself of the situation he was in. He'd left the room then instead, to again, try for escape.

Everything had been completely useless as usual and he'd spent the next almost-half-hour screaming at the walls and pounding his fists at anything within reach; shouting himself hoarse until all he wanted was to just collapse against the front door.

But now.

Now he was trying to make his way up the second flight of stairs in the house, up toward that strange door at the top. 

He'd avoided it understandably, mostly because of the hanging corpse still dangling around up there, but he was here now and the door was just within reach. He didn't even have to turn around. He didn't have to look at the corpse, or move it out of the way or anything like that, it wasn't in his vision. He was fine. 

Fine.

The door was as locked as it had been the other day and when he rammed his entire body weight into it, it didn't budge at all. He did it again and the result was obviously the same but he kept going anyway; ignoring the bruises he could feel forming over his bare skin. 

It creaked under his blows though and, eventually, surprisingly really, when he shoved himself into it one more time, the middle section of it finally gave way completely; crumbling against him in bits of moldy wood and cobwebs.

He almost stumbled through it, coughing and waving the dust away with a hand, when the door swung open suddenly and he swallowed past the sudden dryness in his throat, before looking inside.

He hesitated. 

_Please._

_Please, please,_ please _let this be a way out._

He leant forward, poking his head around, looking through the open door. 

He stared inside.

The corpse stared back. 

Tony froze, his heart thudding, everything suddenly growing bitter cold, and he jerked his head around dizzyingly quickly to look behind him. 

The rope was still there, still bloodied and frayed and covered with God-knew-what-else, but there was nothing else hanging inside, "Oh God," Every hair on the back of Tony's neck and his arms rose in salute to a new wave of fear filling him from top to bottom. 

That's not possible. That's not - 

There was a heavy footfall just behind him. And then another. 

"Oh God."

This was a trick.

This was a trick of Loki's or something, something to keep him in line, something to make sure that he doesn't use this door as a means of escape or - 

A cold hand clasped onto his shoulder, bare completely of skin and muscle, the bones digging into him until he cried out, turning to face it.

It had blue eyes, glazed over with cloudy ripples from the centre. 

Blind, then.

Tony stared at it, swallowing and trying to take a step back but for what looked like a fragile set of bones, it's grip was fierce. 

"Take it away," It rasped at him, blood and muck falling from it's open and ripped mouth. Tony watched in horror as it reached for his reactor, pulling him closer even when he struggled, "And what are you?"

He felt like he'd been stabbed. Gaped at it like he had been.

He stared at it, stared into it's too blue eyes, at it's darkened, dirty-blond hair.

It didn't look old anymore, didn't look rotten. The grey-washed out jumper merged into ripped uniform, the scaled blue now hard not to notice and the silver star hadn't eroded yet.

Tony reached out for him.

"... Steve?"

The corpse snarled, making Tony jerk back and when he then tried to pull away instead, it yanked the reactor clean out of his chest; bringing it's face closer to his. Grabbing him, pulling him away, dragging into a darkness that he'd only seen when Obadiah Stane had first tried to take what was -

" _No!_ "

-

\--

-

Tony's eyes flashed open. 

His own reflection stared back at him, eyes wide and terrified, face flushed a dark pink that he knew wasn't there from any nightmare of his. He tried to control his breathing. Tried to calm down but he was still here. Still in this house. Still - 

There was an arm around his waist and a rising chest behind his back.

Two fingers twitching and curving inside him.

"I - "

"Your heart has been beating faster than usual," Loki murmured low in his ear, pressing closer into him from behind and Tony found himself trying to lie as still as he could, looking at the mirror instead of what was happening behind him, "Has something frightened you?"

The fingers slid further into him, twisting around once before thrusting.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, biting hard on his lips to repress any sounds that he wanted to let out at the sensation.

When Loki tightened his grip, he took the cue and shook his head quickly, "No." He bit his lip harder, "No, I'm fine, I'm just - nightmare." Loki shifted behind him, pulling him closer with the arm still tight around him, until he was pressed flush against Loki's bare chest. 

Now that he'd woken, he noticed that the pain in his stomach had dulled into a thrumming ache but it was still more than a little uncomfortable, and he'd shift himself to ease it a little but the grip Loki had on him was less than gentle and he didn't want to think about what would happen if he tried to pull away.

The fingers in him thrusted again, slower than anything that Loki had done to him before that Tony almost tried to relax. But then they pressed harder, deeper, and he had to turn his face away to hide the darkening flush that rose into his cheeks.

Loki's breath was warm on the back of Tony's neck, enticing his next cycle on before it was even due and the teeth nipping at his skin didn't help either. Nor did the cock spreading a hot line of heat against his thigh ... 

With a low groan, Loki decided to move from fingers to said cock, pressing against Tony fully now. Snapping his eyes up, Tony found his reflection again and remembered the blood on his thighs, the unhealed skin, the pain from last night.

He genuinely didn't mean for his elbow to slam into Loki's face but when it did, he didn't exactly regret his instinctual defense either.

Not even when he remembered what Loki could do to him when he was angry enough.

There was a beat of silence where Loki brushed a finger the cheek Tony had hit, blinking slowly at his own reflection in the mirror to meet Tony's gaze in it. Tony met it coolly, a little proud of his elbow-smashing.

"If you wish to change positions Stark," Loki said just as coolly in Tony's ear, before suddenly grabbing an ankle of his and pulling him backward, turning him onto his back - ignoring the hiss of pain that came from Tony - and leaning over him, "Then simply say so."

Tony took in nice and slow breath, pressing the aches in his body out of his mind and trying to focus on the patterns of the ceiling instead. But still. 

Whenever he blinked, he could either see the imprint of the corpse's hands as they reached for him, could see the blue of Steve's dead eyes, or he could see Loki staring down at him, anger burning over his face.

He turned his own face away when Loki leant down to kiss him and then waited for the blow that would inevitably come afterward.

The bed creaked as Loki shifted over it and over Tony. The fur of the pillows itched at his face, tickling under his nose and he almost sneezed but his new found desire to stay deadly silent instead of luring Loki on with his reactions, forced it down. 

The bed creaked again, much louder this time as Loki slid off of it. 

Tony didn't move, didn't comment either - whether it would be aloud or in his head - at the unusual behavior because that would only cause him to get Loki to hurt him all over again.

And though that made more sense than Loki's sudden calm nature, he'd really rather not. 

With his face turned into the pillows, Tony could see him out of the corner of his eye, walking across the floor toward one of the boxes in the cupboard. Waving a hand over one of them once, he turned from it and. 

And just walked straight out of the door. Just like that.

He didn't look back, didn't say anything or threaten Tony, try to reinforce his rules by hurting him just that little bit more ... 

5 seconds. 

Tony waited, holding his breath, counting slowly in his head in a habit he'd taught himself when hiding under the bed from his dad, at around 6 years of age with a broken and expensive prototype in his hands. 

18 seconds.

25 seconds.

He slowly sat up, wincing at the spikes of pain between his legs and at the bruises on his thighs and biceps, but the silk of the sheets were cool enough to be a little comfort for that.

There were no footsteps outside and though he hadn't heard the front door slam yet, he guessed that this was it. This was the part where Loki decided to leave him in the house and just go and - 

And do whatever it is that he did out there? To go and destroy Tony's life? Now that he'd destroyed his body?

He _did_ own everything of Tony's, who's to say what he can and can't do with it all. No one, that's who. Not even Rhodey, who was Tony's goddamn safe-bet into a healthy Omega-Alpha relationship but now because of Loki, he'd no one.

He sighed, pulling his knees up into his chest and resting his forehead on them. The speckles of blood that had been on the sheets last night were gone, cleaned up by magic probably, but there were still the dried flakes over his legs. 

So. Like in his dream, he eased himself off of the bed and began to make his way toward the bathroom in the next room. Walking past the one box that Loki had clearly done some magic-mumbo-jumbo to, he glanced down at it once out of pure curiosity and was surprised to see it full to the brim with clean, shimmering water. 

"Um."

There was a blue cloth dangling over the side of it and the inside of the box was no longer soggy cardboard but had yellow-tinted plastic lining surrounding the water instead.

He blinked down at it, his stomach still rolling but now it was from either his heat, his hunger or his confusion as to _why_ exactly Loki had decided to - 

The door opened.

The door opened and he spun around with a shout, one of his feet knocking against the box and sending water sloshing over his toes. In his mind's eye he could see the corpse standing in the doorway, Tony's reactor in both it's hands and the rope that it had hung itself on flying toward him, but taking a step back he blinked again and saw that it was Loki. _Loki_. 

Loki who was supposed to have gone and to have left Tony in peace finally. Loki who hadn't even left in the first place. 

Tony took another step back, away from him now, but he'd stood still for too long already in his surprise and.

And Loki caught him with only three long steps, grabbing him by the arm and literally marching him over to the bed, "Ow - ow, get _off_ \- "

Tony wrenched his arm back when he could but then flinched when one of Loki's hands lifted in the line of his sight, relaxing only a little when it only pushed him down against the pillows. When it didn't hit him or plunge into him or try to arouse him. 

When it didn't hurt him. 

He sat there, a little stunned really, and watched as Loki lifted the water-filled box and lay it down beside him on the bed, "Warm or cold?" 

Tony stared at him.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Loki sighed with irritation and lifted the cloth, lifting one of Tony's legs and ignoring how it stiffened when he did or how Tony tried to pull it away immediately.

He wiped a wet line down the dried blood there, cleaning it away.

Tony shivered, still staring at Loki - trying to decipher whether this was all a joke or not - but when the cloth neared his sore and swollen entrance, he instinctively reached out to stop it and Loki dropped the cloth into his hand gladly, to let him continue cleaning himself. 

"Parody of care?" He couldn't help but ask, wiping between his legs and trying not to grimace. Loki didn't answer but the water was suddenly a lot colder than it had been before, making Tony shiver just that bit more, "When's the hurting going to start again then, huh?" His voice did not shake. Didn't. "Or are you tired from it all already, dickface?"

Okay. His voice was shaking. But it was mostly anger, not fear. 

He was tired of being on the receiving end of assholes being "nice" before alternatively throwing it into his face just when he started to trust them. He didn't think he'd ever trust Loki but luring him into a false sense of security was exactly the kind of thing he'd expect from someone like him, and doing _this_ bit of "act of kindness" was exactly the sort of thing that started it all. 

"Do you want me to hurt you?" Loki asked lightly, leaning back on the pillows on Tony's other side, watching him wipe at his other leg now.

"No." Tony answered him curtly, resolutely ignoring the hand stroking up and down his bare back. 

"Then keep yourself quiet."

The cloth swiped over the inner side of Tony's thighs and he looked down then, focusing on the sharp stings of pain the dried blood brought when they caught his skin, rather than the forefinger tracing patterns over his spine.

He didn't respond. Why bother.

After a while, however, Loki straightened, snagging the cloth from Tony's hands before he'd even finished and vanishing the box before it could spill when Tony flinched over the sheets.

Frozen to the spot now, he waited for when Loki would push him down, would continue on from last night, build his cycle up again and fuck the resistance out of him but.

But Loki only waved a hand around again, dumped a blisteringly hot bowl of soup on Tony's knee and left it there to balance, leaving the room without even giving a spoon to eat it with.

Tony stared at it for fifteen whole minutes before flinging it at the door. 

" _I'm not some kind of an animal of yours to just keep locked up like this, you _fuck_ \- !_ "

.

\--

. 

The bowl didn't shatter. The soup didn't spill. 

It rolled on it's side, ending with a clunk at the bedpost and he could see it, rippling and steaming hot around the blue china of the bowl and it was so impossibly intact that he was almost overcome with a need to investigate it.

However, hunger overcame him first and despite all the anger at being taken, fed and just left here like some kind of pet of Loki's, he crawled over to the edge of the bed and lifted the soup back into his lap.

It was still hot, boiling on his bare skin, and he set it down on a pillow instead, flicking his eyes over toward the door every so often in case Loki suddenly burst back in again.

His stomach was still cramping but when he blew over the soup, taking a long, slow sip from the bowl's rim, the pain of it gradually lessened; only soothing into a throbbing prod of pain instead of full-blown muscle cramps and spasms. 

Symptom number one of an Alpha treating their Omega badly; stomach cramps.

With any luck, Loki may even get so bad with how he treated Tony that he may even get sick. And wouldn't that be pleasant. 

The joys of puking while sweating through your heat. He took another sip, which reminded him -

Tony sat up from where he'd unconsciously leant back on the pillows, staring at one of the wooden posts on the bed.

One more cycle.

He had only the one more left. _One_. 

Which meant, clearer heads, no more hormone-driven-kitten-weak-body, no more Loki trying to - 

He stopped. He didn't know that for sure. Loki may continue this despite there being a heat cycle to conform with.

Breathing in quickly and quietly, Tony darted his eyes around the room before dumping the bowl carelessly down - it wouldn't spill anyway, who cared? - and rushing over to the door.

He winced at the pain between his legs as they rubbed together but he was still slick from his cycle yesterday and any friction that Loki had given him as punishment was slowly being faded away by it. 

Still. A repeat of that kind of pain would be something that he'd probably try to avoid in the future. 'Probably', because maybe, _maybe_ , he may not have a choice at some point.

Pulling the door open he let out a sigh of relief that it was unlocked and glanced past it, left and right, checking to see if Loki was in the corridor. 

He wasn't.

Then, carefully, he eased himself out of the room and down the stairs.

Still no Loki.

Screaming at the top of his voice and there. No Loki opened a door to see what was going on. He was gone. 

_Finally_.

But. Just in case, he checked everywhere in the house, every nook and cranny and - 

He avoided the attic - for obvious reasons that he didn't really want to think about - and headed back to the bedroom when he decided the house was Loki-free for now, grabbing the bowl of soup with one hand and shoving it into the cupboard.

Going so far as to slam the door afterward.

Food delayed a heat cycle, gave an Omega enough sustenance to wait it out longer until they were ready for another bout, which was probably exactly the reason why Loki had given it to him. 

To delay it until he was home again to push Tony through it all.

Well.

If Loki wasn't here, wasn't here _right now_ , then there wasn't a need to delay it, was there? If he had his cycle without Loki then he could just - 

Could. Could what?

He stopped, staring at his own hand clenching over the door's handle in a grip way too tight to be anything remotely near to his usual blasé and cooled self. 

Before he'd been bonded - God, he'd never be used to that. That one word may once have meant something special to him once upon a time, but now. Now it was like something dirty, pressing into Tony's mind whenever he tried to forget about it - he'd always used toys or fingers, waiting until after his heat to fuck a no-strings Alpha or Beta when there was no risk of a claim.

He'd also had his tablets and his painless sleeping periods, snuggling into blankets with something up his ass to repress the shivering need of wanting to have something _more_ ... 

But he had an Alpha now. An - Loki. 

Fucking Loki. Murderous, dangerous, cruel and controlling Loki, who had a claim laid out over Tony's everything.

Fingers and toys would be nothing to him now. Not against the cramping or the shivers, the fevers. And certainly without his tablets. 

Tony slid down to his knees, his back pressed to the door, closing his eyes, "Fuck." He groaned under his breath, his heart weighing heavy in his chest and he shut his eyes tighter.

Flashes of last night wouldn't stop replaying in his head, mixing in with his nightmare and with his interactions with Loki in previous times of his life.

In his tower, on the battlefield, or seeing him leave for Asgard whilst chained and restrained back, or turning around to see him standing and watching as Harrod fucked into him that stupid _stupid_ night that couldn't have been that long ago but it felt so - 

A door slammed downstairs and he stiffened, tightening the hands he hadn't even known had clenched around his shoulders, hugging himself whilst he bit his lip hard enough to feel his heartbeat under his teeth. 

"No," He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He can't be back yet. He'd only just dumped the soup, he'd - 

The door slammed again and this time, there were footsteps up the stairs. Padded and soft over the carpet but when the door to the bedroom opened, deliberately slowly, Tony still couldn't help the flutter of fear his heart gave when Loki stepped inside. Like he hadn't even been expecting him.

He hadn't bothered to stand yet and he didn't even bother looking up either at Loki either but he walked further in without invitation anyway. Course he did. Who was Tony to tell him what to do?

"You're back." He croaked, clearing his throat and shakily standing, one foot slipping out from under him but he caught himself in time and smiled at Loki, "Welcome home, honey." He then added, as sarcastically and as full of disgust as he could manage, but all Loki did in response was raise an amused eyebrow.

Walking past him, Tony headed toward the door, holding himself stiff and avoiding skin-contact when he neared the other man but he was grabbed by the wrist before he could leave anyway, making it all rather pointless really.

"The soup?" Loki inquired, pulling Tony closer.

Tony shoved at his chest but he wasn't let go, "You eat it." He spat, anger from before rising again and he clung to it. Anger was better than anything else Loki made him feel, "You weren't supposed to be back early."

Why did he say that? For God's sake, is he seriously out of his - 

"Was I not?" Loki asked, voice soft and tone cold, "Then," He smiled leaning down as though he wanted to kiss Tony again, "Perhaps I am just pretend." 

If only. Loki's breath was cool over his lips.

Tony turned his face away.

He really should have expected the tight hold on his chin that forced his head back around, made him stay there and stay still while Loki pressed his lips to his, coaxed his own open and slipped a tongue inside.

His own response was to mentally shut down until Loki stopped but that didn't work out well because suddenly there were hands under his legs and he was suddenly lifted into Loki's arms again.

_Just like last night, God ..._

Unable to stop his own reflexes, he grabbed onto Loki's shoulders, unintentionally pressing their lips harder together and Loki staggered a step as a result; his back hitting the wall beside the door, which was when Tony remembered yesterday more vividly, remembered the knife in Loki's back.

One knife hadn't worked. Maybe a bigger one? He'd feel better pumping Loki full of bullets but right now, he should probably stick to being realistic. Knives could work. Maybe. Maybe if he edited them, made them sharper, bigger, harder. 

But how? Loki'd magicked everything in the house. Down to every statue and - 

Loki pressed into him slowly, using a hold on Tony's hips to tug him all the rest of the way down until Tony couldn't help but keen into his mouth.

Jesus, jesus. He'd not eaten because he'd wanted to take care of himself when his cycle finally came but now.

God. This wasn't even his cycle yet. It was just Loki being too impatient to wait.

Loki pulled away from his lips when a flush spread from Tony's neck through to his cheeks, brightening his eyes and dulling them all at the same time, showing that he was running out of air.

Sucking in a deep breath, it turned out to merge into a cry when Loki thrusted into him now, leaning against the wall and pulling Tony down by his hips. In retaliation, Tony bent his head at the neck and bit into Loki's shoulder.

It hurt him. More than it hurt Loki likely, and all it did was make his teeth ache.

So instead, out of ideas, he instead just shut his eyes and turned away.

"If you continue to struggle and rebel Stark, you will only make all this worse on yourself," Loki murmured in his ear, walking them away from the wall, still thrusting into Tony like that was all he was there for, and laying him out on the bed; making Tony wrap his legs around to rest on his back while he pushed in all the more harder. 

"If you let me go live my - live my life outside of here, I won't struggle," Tony countered breathlessly, his skin now burning and there. There was his cycle. Coming up early because his Alpha couldn't wait a little while longer. To let him recover, "What difference would it make, I mean - You'd still be, effectively, ruining my life. Just - I'd just be that little bit more happier if I could _live_ while you did it."

Loki slowed his thrusts, bracketing Tony's head with his arms, "Mm." Was his deeply thought out reply.

"Does that mean so little to you? That you have to keep even that from me?" Tony tried again, tried to convince him, gritting his teeth when Loki's cock rammed in harder now. He didn't receive any sort of response, vague or not and that spiked the last bit of anger in him, "What because you're a miserable little dick you can't - !" Loki's hands tightened over his skin.

And there was all the murderous intent again. Both his and Loki's. Great. 

He'd barely recovered from last night. 

Loki stopped, though, which wasn't what Tony expected so he braced for an attack. 

He stayed buried in him, though - of course he did, Loki didn't have a conscience, he'd start up again in a minute and force more screams from Tony's mouth when he didn't "obey" - but when Tony's legs slipped off of him slowly, he reached forward and grabbed a pillow, shoving it over Tony's face.

It wasn't smothering, wasn't suffocating just yet, but the feeling of it pressing over his head made every single vein in his body run ice cold.

"N - !" His arms were batted away and Loki pressed into him further.

"I only want your body Stark," Loki snarled over him and even without seeing him, Tony could tell that his teeth were bared, but. But everything was too muffled like this. His face was hidden, he was breathing in fur, and all Loki would have to do is press down just a little harder, just a little longer and Tony would - "I don't need the face."

Thrusting into him again, the pillow was pressed down and Tony screamed now, behind the fur, sucking in great gulps of air when the pressure was finally lifted only for fear to take over again when it was pressed down harder the next time.

Loki kept up a rota, choosing when and how long to press the pillow down over Tony's mouth, not letting him see what was happening, terrifying him with the possibility of being smothered to death and only letting him _feel_ what was - 

Loki grabbed at his thighs, holding his legs up and spread wide with only the one arm, and when his hand skimmed over the pillow one more time, Tony actually sobbed behind it.

Loud and wretched. 

" _Don't - !_ "

Anger had no part anymore and he was more scared of struggling than of the sex, now that there was the threat of his oxygen being taken from him completely. Until his body gave out.

It was a horrible way to die. An awful, horrible, nightmarish way to die and he'd know. Since Afghanistan it was all he'd ever dreamt of. Drowning or suffocating or being buried alive or -

Or being strangled by corpses.

Loki stopped.

Every limb of Tony's was shaking and despite having let out a half-screamed sob, the tears clogging his throat had yet to sting in the whites of his eyes. The pillow wasn't pressing down on him anymore and there were hands moving from his legs to his arms, moving them from where they'd unconsciously tangled in the sheets, unclenching the fists that had caught bits of silk inside. 

Loki had stopped.

Tony wasn't sticky.

There wasn't anything between his thighs, there wasn't any blood or - or come. Loki was still hard, he could feel it against him, he could - 

The bed shifted.

Tony went completely still. He went still and he hated himself for it. 

Fear was one of the only emotions that he hated with a passion and that was only because it made him react to situations with so much transparency that everyone that wanted to could use it against him.

Howard had used it, Stane had used it, Fury, Natasha, Loki ... 

All of them.

Fear was his weakness. It controlled half his life, and hiding it away always brought it back tenfold. He couldn't get rid of it so he disguised it but here. Here with Loki. Used, abused, unmasked. 

He was an open fucking book. 

The bed shifted again and still, Tony hadn't moved. There was the sound of padded footsteps. Loki didn't start up again, didn't grab him, drag him to the edge of the bed and sling his legs over his shoulders or - 

The door shut with a click.

13 seconds. 

28 seconds.

29 seconds.

It didn't open again.

54 ... seconds.

. 

.

Tony slowly sat up, letting the pillow fall off of his face to land on the floor. He stared down at himself.

There were bruises on his thighs, adding to the ones from the previous days but they weren't as bad as they could have been. Loki had barely gotten halfway. 

He'd just - stopped. 

Footsteps downstairs, however, indicated that he was still in the house, still wandering around down there but he wasn't coming anywhere near the stairs as far as Tony could tell. Wasn't bringing some new or horrible torture device up here to finish the job.

Tony couldn't get a proper breath in and he had to physically restrain his hands from flapping in panic.

The ache from his cycle was building now, almost there due to Loki's impatience but he'd time still. Loki had stopped. The cycle would die down now until his body was ready. He could - 

There was the sound of something smashing downstairs. 

Tony curled into a ball on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he slowly slid down until he could rest his head on the pillows behind him. 

His throat felt sore from all the screaming, his eyes stinging with the tears now.

He threw the rest of the pillows onto the floor, laying back without them and stretching his legs out under the blankets. 

His plans for bigger and sharper knives ran through his head once again but he discarded it with a heavy heart. What was the point? Loki had a short temper. Tony had already ignited it twice now and doing so again may very well end up with him lying here dead.

Blinking slowly, he lay there, aching and shaking, shivering from the cold until he snuggled further into the silk to try and find warmth. Sleep was one of the only things that dulled the pain of heat, other than an Alpha's comfort, and already knowing that he'd be wasting his time trying to escape, he saw no other, or no better, thing to do right now.

And not for the first time, he wished - no he _prayed_ \- that there were people out there trying to help him. Because in here, locked away. He'd got nothing.

He was - effectively - helpless.

"God. You're an asshole." 

He shut his eyes.

\--

Midday rolled by and Tony still slept on. The blankets had bunched around him and tears had clung to his eyelashes but hadn't fallen.

Dead to the world, he missed that the door opened. And he missed the hand that lay on his brow. 

He also missed the blankets being pulled down and another body climbing in beside him. Missed the arm wrapping around him, the breath on his back. 

Missed how a thumb gently swiped over his bottom lip while his Alpha sat there, watching him sleep, wiping tears from what had happened away.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No. Loki has not had a change of heart. 
> 
> This should hopefully, if all goes to plan, be the last chapter that has rape in it. 
> 
> If there are others with rape in it, I will let you know in the chapter notes at the beginning of said chapter. If not, I will also let you know.
> 
> Look out for a: **
> 
> ** will equal rape.
> 
> No ** means no rape. You get me? :) <33


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, one: I'm so so terribly sorry for this long wait!! I know I promised Early June, and it's now late July! I'm so sorry ;(
> 
> Two: I'm gifting this chapter to Isahbellah ;) A very special frostiron friend of mine XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** There is rape, in this chapter, but it's a nightmare - warning.

.

Tony screamed out in his sleep. Out loud, terror-filled - long.

Another dream, another nightmare, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t - 

No -

The pillow was pressed over his face.

No, not again, not again, NO -

Get _off_ \- 

The pillow wouldn’t shift off of him, not like it did last night, not like it did after Loki - after he - 

And right now, right now he couldn’t even see, he couldn’t - he was _suffocating_ and he couldn't even -

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think, he - he was - 

_Please_ \- 

Loki’s hands bracketed his face, pressing the pillow down, holding it over his face, keeping his mouth held wide open against the fur and dust as he was _thrusted_ into so hard that his entire body actually shook from the strength of it. 

Oh God -

Please, please, _stop_ -

I can’t take much more of this.

Loki growled above him, lost in his own pleasure or, even, in some sadistic fantasy of his, his arms bulging beside Tony's head and - if he looked just a little to the side he could see them there - could see them keeping him in place, with the elbows locked down too tight. To push the pillow down over him when he struggled - to cut off his -

 _Stop_ \- !

Words were whispered into his ears, repeated in a shout when he didn't respond immediately besides sobbing under the fucking pillow, “Do you understand?” 

Understand? Understand what, he didn’t - 

"You are here to be used Stark. To only be used, do you understand?" The pillow wrenched off of him and he sucked in a breath of relief, just as hands were tangled painfully tight into his hair and tugged his face up - made him cry out and wail, “No - ”

"That is _all_ you are here for, Stark. All. Is that clear enough for you?" 

This is a dream, a dream. Just a dream. 

Wake up.

Tony felt bile burning in his throat, "I don't - " There was rushing in his ears, drowning everything out.

Wake up -

“That you are to be used by me, by _only_ me, and that all you are here for is for me to use. And nothing else. _Nothing_." Tony's moans hitched higher at a sharper thrust, his legs rising to instinctually try and get himself away from the pain that he was experiencing, "Do you _understand_ that, Stark?" Tony choked against the hands on his throat, screamed when Loki drove himself deeper inside him.

Fucking wake up!

"Wait - !"

" _Do you understand_?"

"I - "

"Tell me you understand, Stark. Tell me and I'll stop."

Please - 

Please, I don't know, I don't know, I can't understand you, I -

Loki began to thrust again, knocking Tony's head back into the headboard, making his forehead spike with both pain and with a weird kind of numbness that he knew came from some sort of wound forming around there. 

"Tell me."

"I can't brea - "

" _Tell_ me!"

He was crying again, he couldn't help it, Loki was right in his face - he couldn't see anything _but_ Loki, couldn't breathe past his fear or past the lack that he had of oxygen from the pillow just _smothering_ him - 

He was - "I can't - I can't breathe ... _please_ \- "

Loki snarled above him, clearly not liking his answer, and the pillow was again shoved over his face. Tony screamed under it - pride shot completely out of the window. 

He screamed until he couldn't even hear himself anymore, until he couldn't even make out the blurriness of his own darkening vision and couldn't get a lung-full of breath into his body quickly enough. 

When - 

_Please_ -

When he - 

he can't - 

He can’t breathe -

.

~ 

.

Tony awoke silently. And. Compared to the screams that he’d had whilst sleeping, he figured that maybe his throat had probably had enough. Just like him. 

His body had tensed as he slowly came to, stiffening up with that kind of horrible wash of cold that always tended to happen whenever he dreamt of either dying or falling. Or, in this case ... rape. 

He was shaking.

His legs had automatically kicked out in panic after waking and - as he tried to catch his breath to remind himself that he was alive, that he was okay, that he was not currently being smothered and/or killed in bed - he slowly froze in a dawning sense of horror when he suddenly felt soft fingers dancing across his ankles. 

No -

He didn't look up for what felt like an age, staring down at his bare arm instead and biting down hard at his bottom lip to try to keep himself quiet when those fingers began to rise just a little higher over his skin. 

Their touch was a little light, almost ticklish. Gentle? Could he say that? 

No. No he couldn't. Manipulative was more like it.

Loki didn't say anything at all while he lazily touched Tony. _Touched_ him. Like he was just there for him, like he was there just to be touched. 

His skin crawled in more than discomfort whilst he waited. 

Wait - 

Waited for something to happen. 

But nothing did.

He almost counted down again, almost tried to convince himself that it’d all be okay if he just shut his eyes and pretended that this wasn’t all happening to him. 

But then, what in the hell would that even do? Other than fill him up with some more disappointment and fear when his situation was just slapped back into his face afterward.

So. Okay. Might as well ... address it now, then.

Easy.

He just has to look up. Look up. Come on.

Gradually. Slowly - so fucking _cowardly_ slowly - he curled his body in and eased himself up and around to look down at his shaking legs. 

The sheets had bunched by his feet in his sleep - ~~nightmare~~ \- and were now fluttering around in some sort of magically-artificial-breeze over his bare skin, stroking down his calf and ankles in a touch so similar to fingers that - wow. 

He'd actually frozen in fear - for over _five minutes_ \- because of a fucking blanket. 

God, what was wrong with him. Only a few days locked up here and he was already becoming that little frightened omega that Loki wanted so badly. One that would gladly just stay here and live to obey him. 

Pushing himself up with his hands, he winced at the thrum of aching pain over his back and stomach, rubbing a hand over a slightly purpling bruise that was slowly forming over his thigh; he gave it a short prod with a finger, running a hand through his hair and down his face and sighing. 

Another nightmare. Another that ended with his death and with him being unable to breathe. Suffocation. 

He half wanted to think about that, to even go as far as to wonder whether or not it meant that something “smothering” was on the horizon for him or something, but after what had happened to him yesterday, he’d actually rather just sit here and think about sunshine and rainbows and the Avengers or - 

There was the slam of a door downstairs and he tensed right up all over again. How much time had passed since he’d fallen asleep before? He used to have a pretty good body-clock, before, but now - ?

Another door slammed. 

A set of footsteps. 

Fuck.

It literally took every ounce of Tony’s strength to _not_ just fly off of the bed and dive straight into the cupboard by the corner - to hide. 

Hiding hadn’t worked out so well for him last time, had it. And Loki would just get pissed at him for trying. 

So he sat still, instead, digging his nails into his palms and breathing in and out in short, sharp breaths before realizing just what he was doing and trying to slow everything down. 

For all he knew, Loki could be some kind of vampire or something as well, with advanced hearing or whatever, and could hear his heartbeat rising. 

He might even be making the bastard _happy_ about that - knowing that Tony was 'finally' genuinely scared of him now, just like he probably wanted - or might even be making him aroused. Though. With his new, and un-wanted, ‘experience’ of it now - That didn’t exactly seem like it was something incredibly difficult to do anyway. 

Loki seemed to just get aroused at the drop of a hat. Or at the drop of Tony. On the bed. 

Jesus. 

He was hyperventilating again. God. 

And the worst part of that was, in his panic-mode some stupid section of his brain was trying to convince him that _this_ was all just a nightmarish dream as well. And that he’d wake up soon, and that he’d wake up alone for once, and in the tower, and that his tablets would be tucked beside him for a just-in-case moment; ready and waiting for his heat cycle that had not yet _started_ -

Stop it.

Delusional thinking was just as bad as crying, and he'd yet to find a moment in his life when he'd actually been proud of breaking down into tears. It, also, was just as bad as hoping or wishing that something bad would just go away all on it’s own.

The door croaked when a hand was placed over it. The floorboards outside it creaking along with it as well, and if Tony sucked in a sharper gasp again, he’d probably choke on his own breath - 

The handle clicked down. The door slowly eased itself open, and Tony found himself shuffling backward over the bed, his hands fisting into and over the sheets and mattress now, instead of letting his nails cut into his own skin. 

Loki stepped inside after a long pause that had pretty much almost made Tony self-destruct from the sheer friction of how vigorously he was trembling. He chewed hard on the inside of his cheek, tasting the slight tang of blood when he broke the skin there - willing himself just to stop. To stop showing such outward signs of how this was all affecting him.

But every time - his thought process just veered him back toward the less-than pleasant memories of last night and, even, from the night before. From the pillows and the blood and Loki above him just -

“Here.” Tony snapped his head up, staring as Loki sat on the edge of the bed, laying down two china plates before him over the sheets. One was completely full of fruit, mostly common ones though the majority seemed to be mangoes, and the second was smaller and empty of anything but a simple kitchen knife. 

Right.

“I’m not hungry.” Tony immediately said, ignoring every single voice that screamed at him to shut up, because if this was like the soup from before then he’d be damned if he - 

“I did not _ask_ , if you were,” Loki said idly, not even looking at him and just plucking out from the pile one of the smaller mangoes, slicing the knife around it slowly and creating a spiral of peelings that he just carelessly let drop to the floor. Tony watched, only slightly fascinated, as they straightened themselves above the wood and vanished just after hitting it. Magic = no mess, no tidying, no dying from disease, “Now eat.”

“No.”

Loki cut into the mango itself now, laying piece by piece of it onto the empty plate beside him, “Don’t try my patience Stark.” 

Don't talk to me like I'm a child you sanctimonious - 

" _Eat_."

Tony didn’t reply, as much as he wanted to, but nor did he move. Loki continued to cut, reaching out for an orange now and discarding the knife to separate the slices with his own fingers. 

Delaying his cycle with food, with 'sustenance', would mean that Loki would likely try to force his way into Tony's very last cycle - from this heat - and take away from him some more later. Which, at least, gave him a little time to try to recover, he guessed but - 

But. Not eating at all would mean that his cycle would come _now_ instead, and he was really, really sure that that wasn’t exactly the best idea right now. Jesus, Jesus, what did he do?

Loki's hands were slowing, meaning that he was either preparing to throw the knife or to hit Tony. Or both. But whatever it was, it was clear that he wanted Tony to eat. And to not obey meant ...

Despite hating him, despite hating that he now had to play by Loki’s fucking rules and to _obey_ , and to have to have _his_ own cycle when and wherever _Loki_ wanted him to -

He leant forward and reached for a bit of mango.

His skin prickled ridiculously self-consciously when Loki's eyes moved over to watch him as he ate, but he swept the feeling away, relaying everything that he'd grown accustomed into doing with the press and focusing on the fruit in his hands instead of the psychopath sitting before him. 

The only other time that he'd ever actually had a mango in his life, had been when he'd been around fifteen and that had only been because he and his family had gone to India for some business thing of his dad's - he hadn't really cared to remember what it was at the time - and the refreshments had included bottles of ice-cold coke and mango pieces. 

It was a nice memory, actually, which was surprising. For him. His mother had taught him how to curl half a mango up by the skin and to cut the pieces into little squares - hedgehog mangoes, she'd called them. 

He almost smiled.

It was his luck, he guessed, that the next time he ate something that made him just that little bit happier, would be in a situation like this. He reached for a bit of pineapple next, instead, ignoring the mango this time with a sigh, but Loki's hand darted out before he could move it back. And it clasped his wrist tight.

Tony's breath caught in his throat but he didn't dare tug his arm away. 

Without a word, Loki slowly moved the hand in his grip, squeezing it in warning when Tony looked like he was going to move away, until it was over a mango slice instead. He dropped it, making Tony’s fingers automatically fall around the fruit in question, "If you would rather not be so transparent with what you're thinking, I'd advise you to not let your emotions flit over your face like that."

Tony swallowed. Just a few days. A _few_ days and the asshole could already read him like a book.

He didn't say anything in reply. But he didn't take the mango either. 

He wouldn't put it past Loki to go all crazy on him again and maybe even force it down his throat, but suddenly, his pride was rearing in fury. Which was surprising, really, seeing as it had stayed quiet for him since that incident with the knife before, but here is was, and so he sat back and watched instead. Watched as Loki moved from the oranges and pineapples to bananas and apples. 

The empty plate began to pile up now, and Loki nudged it toward him pointedly when the bananas were at the top of the pile. 

"Eat." He commanded again, and though the iciness of his tone had melted just a little, the order was still obvious. 

Eat. Or I'll make you.

And, for some reason, the immediate response that came to Tony’s mind was, "I'm allergic to bananas." Okay.

Loki's hands paused and he looked up at him. " _What_?"

Um. Anger was vibrating from Loki again and Tony shifted backward as subtly as he could. The hand that dug into his bare knee gave him the hint that he was still being obvious, no matter what he did.

"What?" He countered then, defensively, stiffening at the chill down his spine from Loki's sudden anger, "I wasn't insulting you, or anything, I was - I - I'm allergic to them. I can’t eat them. Bananas."

Stop talking, stop talking. You’re giving him information, you’re giving him more methods to use. Who knows what he’ll do the next time he gets pissed at you, he’ll force you to eat one or something, or maybe - 

“Explain.” 

Tony bristled, feeling his heart rate spike in both fear and anger - despite his attempts at desperately trying to keep it down - and he slowly slipped his legs under the blankets, trying to cover himself as best he could.

Loki didn’t stop him. 

Tony could feel himself shaking again, in an expectation of something awful about to happen to him, and from the proximity - the hand that had fallen off of his knee when he’d moved it, the look in Loki’s eyes and the way that Tony couldn’t even make himself look away. He’d seen how fast Loki can move. Looking away might just give him the second that he needs to do in order to do something.

“Explain - what? I’m allergic, that’s - that’s all there is.” His thighs were cramping, he needed to stretch his legs out but Loki was sitting right there and putting his ankles within reach would - “Do you … even know what that means?”

Loki’s face tightened. Walking on thin ice.

“I - if I eat them then, I - basically I get these symptoms. Like an illness, in a - a way. But only if I eat bananas. Or squid.” He’d found that out in a dinner with the board of directors once. They hadn’t stopped mentioning it to each other in jokes and comments for months afterward, laughing among each other while Tony had been puking his guts out in the nearest bathroom. He still wasn’t sure if it had actually _been_ an allergic reaction or if he just hadn’t liked it. Or both. But,well, as Pepper had said to him, 'better to be on the safe side'. “I get a rash from it, a painful one. And my eyes - sometimes - swell up. Depends how much I've eaten.”

Loki’s face had gone from angry to bored in less than a few seconds and he still looked at Tony as though waiting for him to get to the point.

“It’s nothing deadly.” He found himself saying, trying to make sure that Loki wouldn’t think about using this against him, “It’s all over after a while.”

“Then eat.” Was Loki’s response, and he pushed the plate further, “And throw it toward the door, like you did before with the soup, and I’ll make sure that the only meal you _ever_ eat here will only be bananas.” 

And there we go.

“Or Squid.” Tony added, without thinking, before digging his nails into his hips hard under the blankets and mentally beating himself to a pulp. 

Loki sat up a little straighter in front of him, lifting the other plate up and standing. The knife was still left on the bed. He turned, narrowing his eyes and smirking, “Well, then," He huffed out a laugh at Tony's comment, "Do you find this all amusing, Stark?”

Fuck you. 

“No,” Tony grit his teeth. And then. “Do _you_?”

Loki’s smile grew, “Do I find the sight of you screaming and crying beneath me," Tony pressed his lips together, "Or even, shaking in fear opposite me, amusing?” He rolled his shoulders, his eyes visibly focusing on how Tony was holding himself now. Stiff, curled up and frozen, “Of course. What is there to _not_ like?”

Tony’s heart was up again and he could practically imagine himself glancing down and even, strangely, seeing his chest rise and fall in time with his pulse. 

“Especially as I have the promise of being able to see it all over again, much later on.” Tony's breath stuttered and he glanced down, staring at the plate and hating himself, “You’ve another cycle, I believe. Don’t you?” Yes, “And afterward, well. You may not be able to ready yourself biologically but I don’t see why we can’t continue this even without your heat.”

And there was his answer. The answer to the question that he’d had running through his mind since this had all started. Whether or not it’ll stop after his heat, or not.

And, no. No it won't.

He can't do this. 

He shut his eyes.

“It would be a shame, however, I think. Without your heat, it may be harder, and," Loki was laughing, taunting him, and it was working, "And there'll not even be a way for me to impregnate you, would there, without your body - ” And that was the last straw. Tony’s eyes flashed open and, though he mostly felt sick to the stomach at that thought, he lunged forward. And. Without even thinking or pitifully wallowing in the sheer shock of that statement, he wrapped his fingers around the handle and grabbed the knife.

Loki paused, looking at him with the beginning of the scowl, “Do you not ever learn from your mistakes, Stark?”

Tony glared, viciously thinking about how everyone hoped that looks could kill and fucking actually _wishing_ that that were the case right now. For him, at least. There were several people in the world that he wouldn’t want to give that power to. Loki being one of them. 

“I think that we’ve already discovered what happens, specifically to _you_ , whenever you wield a knife at me.” Tony’s hand clenched over the handle and he could hear himself breathing now - too loud, too fast, “Put it down, Stark.”

Don’t listen.

“We both know that you can’t hurt me. Not as my Omega, and not with that puny little thing.”

“Yeah - well, It’s not for you.” Tony found himself saying, numb and shaking. Situations and thoughts and scenarios ran through his mind and he could suddenly see himself lying bleeding on the floor and left behind when Loki finally got bored of him, or could see himself being locked away in this room for centuries, or - heavy with a _baby_ \- God. Panicked, tired and actually pretty terrified of what the future might hold for him by this point, his mouth did what it usually did whenever he felt like this. It ran on automatic and said the last thing that anyone ever expected, “It’s for me.”

There was a little pause after he spoke - emphasizing 'little' - where he and Loki just sort of looked at each other in confusion about what Tony had just said. 

And then Tony was following through with the implication, scrambling backward over the sheets and bracing the knife's point against his chest - just below the arc reactor, just near his actual heart. Ready. Waiting.

Loki had moved with him, the plate discarded on the bed, the left-over fruits tumbling off of it and being squashed under his boots as he stepped forward.

Tony held the knife firm, held it tight, braced his arm to -

"Stark," Loki didn't even sound wary. He didn't even think that Tony would, "Give me the knife." Don't you dare, " _Now_."

Tony blinked at the tone, feeling every nerve in his body ache and strain at it, and he felt his hands slipping.

Alpha. His Alpha. Loki was using that to - No. No, no. If this was what made Loki actually _try_ to be his Alpha, then he's not stopping it. No way.

"I can't live like this." And, God, he was actually telling the truth, wasn't he, he was actually considering this. When had this - had he even _thought_ about this? But wait. That wasn't what you do with this kind of thing, was it? You don't think, you react. 

You - you react. 

He swallowed again, his throat becoming increasingly dry and constricted. Too tight to swallow a second time.

So here he was. His first reaction. Suicide. 

Oh, what the hell was he doing.

"Yes, but if you use that, you won't live at all." Loki growled, stepping closer again. Tony shifted backward, feeling himself stray toward the other side of the bed and he dropped a foot down onto the ground - still keeping the knife at his chest. He wouldn't do it, or maybe he would, he didn't know.

But he _can't_ live like a - 

"What do you care?" He spat out, darkly, icily, wincing when stepping backward shot pain between his legs and he reflexively jerked his arm back, cutting into his chest just a little. A drop of blood slid down his skin and Loki's eyes were a little similar to slits when he met them again. 

And then. Suddenly. They were all that he could see.

Loki lifted a foot onto the bed and literally propelled himself forward from his stance, his arms grabbing a hold of both of Tony's and using that grip to throw him hard onto his back, into the middle of the bed. Tony's head hit the mattress and he choked on a pained yell, blinking hard past the dizziness that that sort of movement always prompted, and struggling against the grip that Loki still had on him.

His fingers were being bent backward, the knife being taken away from him. 

"No!"

Loki straddled him, the knife cutting into his hand from where Tony twisted it to try and drive him away, and he still pulled at Tony's fingers until he was sure that they'd break at any second.

Tony turned onto his side, kicking Loki as hard as he could manage to in the stomach and crying out at a backhand that sent him rolling the rest of the way off of the bed. They fell together and Loki succeeded in wrenching the knife away from him and tossing it far across the room. 

Tony crawled backward, his eyes widening - his only defense, only weapon -

Gone. 

Loki's hand curled around his thigh and dragged him down across the floorboards until he was fully under him again - Tony landed a single punch before he was hit in turn and subdued enough to let it happen. His head was then bracketed by arms, his legs pinned down by Loki's - deja vu.

No, no, no!

"Do you ever actually _think_ , at all?" Loki panted above him, out of breath surprisingly, or maybe even fucking aroused as per usual. He had gotten that way, before, "Your team, your company - " What? Is he seriously - "You would leave that to rui - "

"Oh, it's _gone_ already!" Tony shouted, refusing to back down. Not even when Loki's jaw visibly clenched just a few centimeters away from him. Kissing distance. Oh God. Oh _God_. "You've got it all, _remember_. I mean - how could you even fucking forget, you've taunted me about it repeatedly." Huh. Guess he had actually thought about this then. Jesus, he'd considered - "Everything I own, everything I _was_ , it's all yours now." He stopped, breathing heavily, "So it - so it's all gone anyway."

He hadn't anything anymore.

Loki shut his eyes above him in irritation, for just a second, before continuing on in that same low, and thrumming tone. 

Alpha. 

"And so your solution, then, is to murder yourself."

"What do you _care_ -" Tony snarled, clenching his hands into fists and grimacing when they were then pinned down as well by Loki's elbows, "You're going to kill me anyway, I might as well go out _my_ way." Loki raised an eyebrow, "You said so before. You said. You - when I get a little older, you're killing me. I'm not - I can't spend the rest of my life stuck here. Locked away knowing that one day, one day you're just going to get bored and then - "

"Then don't bore me." Loki said lightly, casually. As blunt as he always was but with what he _said_ \- 

"God are you - " He tried to curl his legs in but Loki was completely immovable above him, "You - I just - " He stopped. What could he do, what _should_ he - 

Loki shifted above him and Tony could smell it now, could feel it even. He was hard.

Tony slumped beneath him, letting his head loll in defeat, "Look, if you're going to fuck me, just - get it over with." Loki leant closer, "I mean you're obviously going to - this, this _has_ been your favorite position, so far." Loki's breath fanned over his mouth. Tony looked away, "Look, we're even on the floor as well. Wow. What a - what a coincidence." Stop talking, stop _talking_.

"Your cycle is not here yet." Loki bit out.

Tony's eyes flashed, "And you. Don't. CARE."

Loki's fingers tightened around his wrists and Tony bit his lips past the keen that threatened to arise, "No."

No _what_ you fucking - 

"Then what are you _waiting_ for."

"Continue to _test_ me, and I will hurt you."

"Well if you're not going to do anything to me right now, then get the fuck off of me and get out." 

Loki leant forward, leant closer, his eyes so dark with anger now that the green in them didn't even look like anything more than a memory, "I refuse to leave here, if only to return with you lying here dead."

"Why?" Tony sneered, "Afraid that you're gonna lose your little fucking toy?" Loki slapped him across the face. Tony tasted blood for a second time today and that blow was what actually awoke him to just what he was doing. He was - Jesus.

Baiting on an Alpha, _his_ Alpha, after everything that had happened to him. Baiting him to do it all over again - What - 

"I'm gon'a kick your ass when I get outta here." He was slurring. Concussion?

"No," Loki growled, his hands wrapping around Tony's neck, "Because. As I have said to you so many times now, you will _never_ be leaving here Stark."

Tony shut his eyes, turning his face away, "Then - kill me." The hands tightened and he choked, "You don't - need me. Whatever you're doing out there, you - I'm just for fun. Aren't I." He was just for fun, he wasn't anything important. He was just a _side-effect_. Nothing more, nothing - Loki grabbed him by the chin and forced him back around, "Kill me."

"No."

"Why _not_?"

Loki lifted a fist to hit him, glaring down into Tony's eyes and he flinched before it even struck him, "Please."

Loki's expression was thunderous, the only thing that would have made the picture so much more darker than it already was would be genuine lightning flashing in the background. Whilst Loki braced to beat Tony into a pulp. 

" _Kill_ me."

He didn't want to die.

He didn't.

But he didn't want to live like this, either.

Loki's fist came down. Tony cried out, flinching, and squeezing his eyes shut on instinct. But then, when the pain didn't even come from the strike, he slowly cracked them open again. Loki's face was incredibly close to his now, his nose brushing against Tony's as he panted above him - Raspy. Harsh. Pained, even. Maybe.

His fist was also buried in the floorboard just beside Tony's ear.

Tony stared at him.

"You talk again." Loki threatened. "You say _anything_ again, and - " Tony's eyes darted between both of Loki's, unable to look anywhere else but, and even if he wanted to, he couldn't think of a single thing to say. 

Wood cracked beside him as Loki slowly pulled out his fist and, in the aftermath of the shock, Tony felt himself calming down gradually. And with him, so did Loki. 

Pheromones. Omega was calm, Alpha was calm.

It didn't always work like that, of course, but - 

Loki's face suddenly contorted from whatever it was that he was thinking and he barked out a shout of anger, his fist slamming against the bed this time and breaking one of the wooden legs that supported it. Tony's entire body flinched at the sound and he tried to edge away again. 

Loki's hand was bleeding. 

He was still glaring into Tony's eyes.

"The next time," He hissed out, his voice nothing like it usually was, and it sounded almost like _he_ was the one that had been strangled during their fight, and not Tony, "You ask me to kill you." He pushed himself up off of the floor, "I'll make you beg for it, instead. I'll make you see how death can be a gift."

It was a promise.

Not a threat.

"You're crazy." Tony whispered, "You're fucking crazy."

"No." Loki disagreed, ignoring the blood on his hand, "Merely cruel." He left the room silently, taking everything that he'd brought in with him, and leaving only the plate of cut fruit behind. And Tony. Tony who was still left lying on the floor, amidst broken wood and blood from his own split lip and Loki's open wound.

And then.

Then.

As though actually driving a horrible little - fucking _metaphoric_ knife into everything, his skin slowly began to itch and heat up. Crawl with a need that could only be claimed by one thing.

His cycle.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not particularly proud of this chapter, really. But I hope you enjoyed, if you got to this point :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here is where one of my subplots comes in. Plot twist coming up.
> 
> **Warning: Gore, death. Torture. But not of Tony or Loki.**

* * *

 

Pain exploded behind Tony's eyes when he slammed the palms of his hands into them; hard.

Clutching at his stomach did nothing much else either and he couldn't even do more than just sit back against the door, heaving through his half open mouth in an attempt to calm himself and to stop the aching throbbing within his stupid, omega-driven body.

He swallowed when sitting hurt more than standing, but standing then made it feel almost like his stomach was falling out between his thighs and dragging his whole body down into a crouch, anyway, hurt all the more as well. He couldn't win.

God, but it had never been like _this_ before. Tony could so easily remember his first ever heat — mostly due to the reaction that his father had given to it all really — before the pill prescriptions had become valid and before his own inventions were created to ease himself out of it. The searing pain of that one had been awful yeah, but it was nothing compared to this.

This was agony. This was — this was _Loki's_ fault. A cycle when bonded and without the alpha's help meant simple- _pain_ and nothing Tony could do or even wanted to do was helping. He couldn't even muster the slightest bit of energy to uncurl his arms from around his waist and to slide fingers into himself and at least give his body a little relief.

Moving hurt. _Breathing_ hurt, and he was even keening a little, but he'd be damned if he did anything loud enough for Loki to hear from downstairs.

" _Fuck_ ," He whispered to himself, his voice breaking around the pain, hoarse even to his own ears. He tried to ease himself down onto the bed, curling up under the blanket and shaking in the hot-cold-fever-induced pain of his final cycle.

Two hours of this so far and he'd actually made it without allowing himself do just what his biology was urging him to. He could wait it out, he could. Loki hadn't come back after what had happened before and since then, Tony had been in an almost dazed-bile-filled state of pain, nausea and cramping. Two _hours_ , Jesus, he had done that.

He could do more.

All he had to do was wait until the cycle eventually died down itself and decided nothing was fucking this Omega today. And then his heat would finally be over. Finally. He could do this. Five more hours. He can. He'll make it. When that grandfather clock chimed next, he'll still be here. He _will_.

Rolling over sent a sharp, stinging stab down his spine through to his chest and he actually cried out, burrowing his head into the pillows and hating the fucking fur that was almost everywhere, making him want to sneeze on top of everything and that hardly helped. He was wet between the thighs, sticky and ready, but he couldn't —

Bile rose into his throat abruptly, and he quickly sat up with a jerked wince, leaning over the side of the bed to throw up the fruit that he had been made to eat before. Shaking, he lent his head over the bed's wooden edge and gagged at the smell; a foul taste in the back of his throat and the start of water filling his eyes from the burn within him.

God, this was hell. He needed a drink.

Unfortunately for him, _drinks_ were all downstairs and downstairs was were Loki was and no way in _hell_ was he going anywhere within five miles of the guy right now. Which, in this house, could actually probably be possible.

The bed was too soft, though. Too hard as well, all at once, and covering his eyes didn't stop the flashing of light sparking at the throbbing headache that he had building inside his mind. By the time he threw up a second time, the grandfather clock chimed downstairs and he figured that enough was enough.

Stumbling to his feet, he staggered toward the door with a wince for every step, hitting the wall when he couldn't make it any further. His pills could still be in the mansion somewhere, maybe Loki didn't destroy them ( _yeah right_ ), and while he wasn't exactly in any condition to go and look for them, it was a whole lot better than just lying there like he was dying from this agony.

The hallway was a lot darker than it had been before and somehow he just knew that it was night. But then again, who was he to guess? Every window was probably a lie and the light had never truly shined sunlight before anyway, so maybe it was even —

There was a creak from above him and the corpse of the man swung in a non-existent breeze, just to the left over his head. He ducked out of the way immediately, his blood cold against the hot of his stomach's throbbing and the tangle of pain between his legs, and he shivered against a chill that couldn't be real.

The stairs were darker than the hallway, glowing with the usual candlelight, and he almost gave himself a heart attack when he saw his own miserable reflection in a smudged little mirror that he passed.

Looking through a gap in the bannister, he gasped at the staggering amount of pain that that one movement caused, and in the sharp jerk that he took to stand upright again he caught sight of Loki sitting at the head of the table. In the kitchen. Where drinks were. Great.

But he didn't want drinks anymore, did he? Well he did but he wanted his pills more. Which was he more likely to get right now? Would pills even work now that he was bonded? He didn't even know, he'd — obviously — never tried it like that and the tests had been —

The door to the kitchen clicked shut on it's own and Tony's hands clenched into fists to hide his jump of fear.

Walking back upstairs, he didn't even bother to turn to look and see if Loki had noticed him at all — too in pain to try and be careful. He patted the walls as he walked, wincing and completely convinced that if he glanced down there would definitely be a dark spot of blood spreading across his abdomen.

God. Every throb only intensified with each step and he barely made it to the end of the hallway before sliding down to his knees against the wall and clutching at his waist; trembling and biting his lips to hide every gasp and whimper.

Every organ felt like it was being ripped apart inside him and though he knew that it was just hormones and cramps and fevers, the fact that this was the first time he had ever experienced something as bad as this just made it all the worse for him to feel.

The pain, though. The pain he could handle. He knew he could, he'd handled so much worse before, but the fact that there was someone who was only downstairs that could make it all go away wasn't exactly helping; especially as every single omega cell in him was aching for his touch.

It was humiliating to think of it, awful to even process and he ignored the urge like it was fire, biting back a cry when what felt like acid bubbled in his stomach hot enough to cause more warm bile to rise into his throat.

He didn't throw up again, swallowed it down and rose to his feet, gritting his teeth and walking purposefully onward. The rooms that he had explored before loom beside him as he walked past and he ignored the urge to go inside again and look around.

Most contained nothing anyway, whereas others contained other doors to other rooms that he hadn't bothered to look inside before. One, though, had contained another set of stairs but the room at the end of them, just like the one with the corpse, had been locked.

Not even by Loki's hand either, because unlike everything else, that paste wasn't attached to it and it was sealed by cement and under lock-and-key. Unlike the one with the corpse, however, this one hadn't sparked Tony's curiosity or given him a need to open it, mostly because it's ominously clean and fully-formed look had kind of put him off.

Whatever was behind it, someone had obviously wanted to keep locked up.

Loki, maybe. The old guy hanging from the rafters, most definitely.

Who was that guy anyway? There had to be more rooms in this place, answers, something that he could do to keep himself off of the pain. Maybe he could go into the adjacent rooms, or even make it to the end of the hallway. There had to be a corner somewhere, another area, another place.

Maybe even somewhere Loki hadn't thought of sealing up yet that he could try and find a way out of.

Well. He grimaced at a spike of pain in his stomach. It was worth a shot, right?

 

* * *

 

The first adjacent room flew open when Tony shoved his shoulder again it, hard. It hadn't opened under his touch, though the lock had clicked, so the only other explanation had been that it was too stiff from lack of use to open properly.

Dust billowed and he coughed, waving a hand in front of it and hating the feeling of deja vu he was briefly bombarded with from his dream before. A single spiderweb draped over the doorway, large and intricate, with several Black Widows curled up inside of it; dead.

Okay.

Stepping underneath it with a held-breath, Tony squinted into the room and wished that he could at least lift the candles out of their holds to use them for some light. Unfortunately, magic prevented that so he was forced to feel himself around instead.

Something small and spindly scrambled over his hand when he placed it over a table, and he jerked it back immediately, his heart thudding as he surveyed over what he could see.

Reaching back, he pushed the door open some more, to let what little light there was out there shine out in here. The table that he'd touched was illuminated and a cockroach sat beside a stack of papers there; solving the mystery of what had freaked him out.

He shooed it away, looking around at whatever else he could make out. A hat and coat hung on the wall, wallpaper peeled everywhere and grey-scaled photographs were bent in stands over the table's molded wood.

So it was an office; of some sort. Huh.

Interest successfully spiked, Tony slowly released the grip that he had on the skin around his hip and breathed deep through the pain, bending to examine the photographs. He looked at them all in order: A woman in her forties, dark hair tied tight in a bun and a solemn expression for the camera. A young man, hollowed cheeks, thin lips and light hair. The old man from upstairs, even, a little younger here, sure, but it was unmistakably him. Tony lent closer, his eyes narrowed — looking at bags under the man's eyes, his skin sagging in the beginnings of old age and light hair thinning around a balding spot on his head.

Who the hell were these people then. And why had one of them decided to kill himself upstairs.

The stack of paper has yellowed in the dark and insects have been at it over time, but it was all still readable at least. It was covered in inked out writing. There were dates, times, names of people that Tony had never heard of. Os were printed beside most, though some had Bs.

That, at least, he could guess at. Omega, Beta. But —

The door creaked behind him and the papers thudded to the table as he spun around, but there was nothing there. The fucking cockroach was next to it, crawling under a gap in the hinges. Jesus, this place was making him jumpy — or maybe that was just all thanks to Loki.

The office showed him nothing else and when even more spiders showed their face and the woman's eyes in the photograph began to creep him out, he decided to leave. Just as he did, he heard the grandfather clock chime again and put that to letting himself breathe a little easier. Almost there and the pain, unless it was his imagination, was even lessening.

The hallway made him blink and he had to let his eyes adjust all over again, rubbing at them and waiting. Other rooms might hold more information for him to indulge his curiosity with but, then again, did he really want to spend another hour trawling through other people's history and —

A door opened downstairs and even from here, the pheromones coming off of Loki were enough to make him almost dizzy with want. It was probably vise-versa too, him still being in the midst of a cycle, and that answered that question then didn't it.

Without even looking, Tony backed into another room at the furthest end of the hallway that he could actually see; the rest of it not lit by candlelight and completely pitch black and, dare he think it, pretty damn spooky.

The adjacent room to this one was stiff as well but the lamp in here was at least brighter.

From downstairs, there was another click and Tony was pretty sure that was the front door. Huh. Good. Free rein then, hopefully.

Slamming his shoulder into the door, he bit back a cry at the doubled cramp that that caused and waited for a moment to let it die down before trying again. One more ram and the door opened with a groan, a duplicate cloud of dust flying up. He was prepared this time and backed up, holding hand over his nose and mouth until he could see again and then he stepped inside; batting aside any webs and clumps of muck that fell from a molding ceiling.

The lamp reflected on a mirror hanging over the far wall opposite and he jerked as he saw himself standing there, squinting and waving to ensure that that dark smudge was indeed him and not some corpse from his fucking nightmare again.

A throb in his side made him look down with a sharp gasp and he swallowed past the pain, his gaze finding a hospital gurney spread out just before him. And he froze.

Because —

Oh my God.

His lips parted slowly at what he could see there and he couldn't even make himself take a step back in shock. Not even if his life depended on it. Everything was cold, every limb stiff, and he _stared_.

Oh —

Blood covered the gurney, dried and dark and spilled out over the headrest. Jars littered around it, some broken and smashed on the floor, most full of organs. Hearts, lungs, a _brain_.

Manacles hung from the walls, so much more blood caked around and over them and white cloth draped over the two corpses that were laid out on the glass tables. The stench inside was overwhelming and he held a hand to his mouth, finally able to back away but his foot hit glass and he almost screamed at the noise.

What the hell kind of place was this. Had _Loki_ done this?

No. Looking around at the remnants of torture, the metal devices, the electricity box in the corner and the scalpels jammed into wood, Tony knew that it couldn’t have been him.

This wasn't Loki's style. This was — this was _experimentation_.

The paper's from the office flooded back into his mind. Os and Bs. Names crossed off, dates and places. Photographs of the owners of this place, this _facility_ that it must have been.

Experimentation on Omega's. Betas when they ran out. Finding pleasure spots for Alphas, keeping organs to see what makes them _tick_. This — God. He needed to get out of here.

Turning, his bare foot skidded over something wet and cold and bit his tongue hard at the thought of what it most likely was. He fell against the door, spinning and coming face-to-face with another corpse, uncovered, naked, and hanging from chains; it's eyes open, mouth cut and torn apart and a collar strapped tight to it's decaying throat. Jesus _fuck_.

There was a list of names beside it, pinned to the wall with more Os printed and crossed off.

Some names that he even recognized this time, with a sickening pang of disgust at knowing what had happened to them; Denise Muller (he'd met her at sixteen, at a party of his fathers), Timothy H. Grinthon (MIT student), Rachel Wires (daughter of an old military partner), Trevor Myers (Same party as Denise), Richard Parker (MIT), Vincent Weeks (a senator's son) and ... and Anthony E. Stark.

His name was last on the list — just under the name of a woman that he'd never met or heard of in his life — printed clear in black and white. An O was written beside it, the date of his first heat beneath, and suddenly he couldn't breathe at all.

Oh God. Oh my _God_.

The clock chimed downstairs and he flinched at the sound, shaking and stepping backward until he could fill the doorway again. A shadow came up behind him then, one that he only really noticed just before he felt it's warmth over his back, and in the mirror he saw the loom of someone standing just over his shoulder. “No — ” A hand muffled his shout and he was dragged out of the room, stumbling to the floor when he was released.

Loki slammed the door shut, sealing it with his hand and clenching it into a fist as it glowed green around it. Tony stayed on the floor, panting from the adrenaline and the fear still bubbling inside of him, and he didn't move for a while. When Loki finally turned toward him, however, he was up on his feet immediately; backing into the corner but keeping the one door out of here in plain sight.

"What the hell kind of place is this?" He whispered quickly, bile in his throat from something other than his cycle. He could feel it dying down, could feel his body let it go knowing that nothing was going to get inside him any time soon, but right now he couldn't even care less.

Flashes of blood still blurred behind his eyelids and the fact that he was _living_ in a house with _dead people_ scattered inside, maybe more than he'd already seen, was more than enough to make him want to run.

Just to run, as far as he could.

"These people were mortal, Stark." Loki said, his face blank, "Why not _you_ tell me instead?"

Tony was hyperventilating, he could feel himself, but whenever he tried to calm himself down all he could see was what was inside that fucking room again. Were there more in the house? Probably. What else had they done to the Omega's they'd caught. And he'd been next. He was on that fucking list.

The old man was dead but what about his partners. The woman and that kid. Where were _they_?

"Are you planning on using that stuff on me?" Tony asked quietly, his fingers fanning out over the wall behind him. Loki gave him a look, telling him the answer, "Why the hell would you live somewhere like this?"

"Because no mortal will ever come here." Loki murmured, glancing at the door that he'd just sealed, "With good reason, I suppose, but it is always easier to find a place livable that can still be private."

"Then get a fucking _trespassing_ notice, you _freak_!" Tony spat, his voice shaky in both fear and anger. Loki narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything in reply. Probably didn't even have a fucking clue about what a trespassing notice even was. "Is — is that how you found out _I_ was an Omega?" Tony then asked, pointing toward the door where that list was hanging, "You were living here and decided to have a nose around and _figured_ it all out? Is it?"

"You're frightened."

To hell with pride. "Of course I fucking am! Look at this place! Look at what they _did_ , and you're _living_ here! You're making _me_ live here, you — " Loki took a step toward him and Tony almost swallowed his tongue with how fast he shut up, but no. No, he wasn't done. "Was it how you found out or not?"

"As soon as I touched you in that tower, before I threw you from the window, I could smell it on you. _That_ was how. This? This simply reminded me of how fickle you mortals all are." They both need to take some anger management classes and yep, that’s good. Joke around in your head Tony, it always makes you feel better.

God.

"Fickle." Tony huffed out a laugh, disbelief curling into it until it sounded cold even to his ears, "They _abducted_ people. Tortured them. Killed them like this just for — " He stopped.

"For science." Loki answered for him. "Something you, I've learned, _adore_. So yes, Stark. Mortals are fickle. You love the things that you do but when another takes it to an extreme, you — "

" _Murder_ is not 'fickle'. Neither is rape, in case you had any delusions about that."

"Taking an Omega in heat is hardly forcing it to — " Loki scoffed and Tony pushed off of the wall to step closer.

"Oh you are _so_ deluded aren't you. No means no, asshole, _even_ in heat and if Alpha's like your fucking self can't understand that then — !" There was a creak from downstairs, the sound of the front door opening and Tony froze; staring at Loki with his mouth half open from his shouts. "What's that?" Loki didn't look at him, "What was that? Is there someone else here? Is — you said — "

And then Loki disappeared.

Tony blinked, unsure of what to do or say, before realizing what had happened. Right. A clone. … Or something.

Could clones be so physical though? He'd practically been dragged out of that room before. Well. Maybe they could, or maybe they couldn’t — magic was unfortunately a subject that he was sketchy over so whatever Loki did was impossible in his mind and unexplainable; something so frustrating for a person that needed to find the answers to everything — but the main thing to take from this was that instead of talking, or arguing really, Loki decides to poof out of the house using his magic instead of answering to his actions.

Well _fuck_ him.

Staying in this room was not an option, not if Tony wanted his sanity in tact, so he left to head over toward the one that he'd woken up in. On the first day that he had spent in this fucking place.

The hallway was too dark for him now though, and in every shadow and every corner, all he could see were the bodies of the Omega's staring down at him, warning him to leave. He ended up running, forgetting about the room and racing downstairs, slamming his fist against the front door and sliding down it when it wouldn’t open.

It was the lightest place in the house and he was not leaving it.

Jesus what was wrong with him. This kind of stuff never freaked him out. Horror's were his thing, it was usually Steve or even Clint that jumped during a movie and he was the one laughing at the gore. But this time it was real, so completely real, and he was in the middle of it.

He didn't know what was worse. Everything that Loki had done to him, living with dead Omega's, or wanting Loki back just to have company in the damn house, _despite_ everything that he had done to him.

But then again, this could all even just be a ploy of his. Scare Tony enough and he'll want you around more, sort of thing.

Doors creaked upstairs and all of the sounds in the house that he had ignored before were suddenly ten times louder as he huddled against the wall, looking up at the statue above him and not the stairs where his imagination was telling him that someone was standing and watching him from.

God. Covering his face with his hands, he took a breath and stood up. The kitchen was light as well, just not _as_ light, but it would do. Getting a meal, he tried to calm himself down; taking a sip of the drink that he'd so badly wanted three hours ago.

His hands were shaking as he ate, blood pumping at a rate that actually let him feel his heart thump against his chest and he could practically feel the panic attack before it was there.

The food helped though. So did the drink. He just wished that there was alcohol here with it all but with Loki being the kitchen-stocker, that was most definitely a no-go. The house moaned around him, most likely due to a wind from outside, but his imagination was on overload and every second he saw something that spooked him completely.

He really needed to get out of this place.

 

* * *

 

The first song that came to mind was, weirdly enough, Old MacDonald and Tony hummed it to himself as he crept out of the kitchen back toward the foyer. It drowned out anything else in the house that he probably wouldn't have noticed before anyway, and it made him feel a whole lot better. Even if his voice was a little shaky.

His cycle and the end of his heat was so far from his mind right now that, despite it being the focal point for these past days, he couldn't even make himself think about if he tried. And he should, it would be a suitable distraction and it might even explain his easily-scared self right now. For an entire cycle, he'd been held captive and used, and now his brain was finally on active alert and every sense was back to normal.

Maybe that was why everything was affecting him so much. Or maybe it was because he was _living inside an Omega experimentation facility full of dead,_ blooded _people._

A few minutes wandering downstairs did nothing to calm his mind and Loki clearly wasn't coming back; probably out there somewhere to release the pent up arousal that he must have had when Tony had walked around with his cycle on peak. Which reminds him, why hadn't he given in?

Tony was 'his', for all intents and purposes, and no matter what —

Oh.

The suicide thing.

It was a little disturbing how easily Tony had forgotten about that. Loki had — it was strange to think it actually — punched a hole in the side of the bed because he'd been _angry_ at Tony trying to take his own life.

Thinking on that now, it just seemed selfish really. Look at my new toy, oh shit it's trying to break itself, better not let it.

The bannister creaked under his hand and Tony shook his head as he walked up it. He wasn't going to get anywhere trying to unpick every action of Loki's but maybe he could unpick the actions of those that had lived here. That, at least, would give him something to do.

He just really hoped there was only one room full of a bunch of corpses but thinking back to that stack of papers, that's looking to be very unlikely. He wondered where they put them all. There weren't enough rooms to store the victims of their tortures and as far as he knew, there wasn't a crematorium inside the house.

There might be a graveyard outside. Or maybe even just a pit — the dates had gone back to the 1960s and back then, Omega's had had no rights so who would have bothered to give them a burial. The thought was creepy nonetheless but it was the fact that there were such recent dates as well that sent shivers down his spine. This had still been going on in _this_ century. He remembered 2001, 2005. Even a 2011.

Christ, he _knew_ some of the names that had been crossed off. His _own_ was on a list. This was sick, on so many levels. God.

The office door was still open and he didn't waste any time in snagging the papers and rifling through them. Names and names, so many of them just crossed off, like they weren't even anything more than just a number on a list.

Why would anyone do this to _people_? There weren't any records of experiments or time samples or studies. The room that he'd seen before had been stocked full with murderous looking devices but nothing that looked remotely scientific to his eye and he had automatically assumed. As had Loki, unless he knew better.

But it _must_ have been. Otherwise, this had just been a place to store and murder the "weaker" species for no other reason than to —

A whir of old electricity started up and Tony jerked to the side when he realized that his back had pushed down a lever on the wall of the office. Lights flickered around the house and blue flashes sparked down the hallway. He sucked in a sharp breath, dropping the papers on the table and leaving to see what he'd done.

Walking away, he stared around, palming his ears to muffle the horrendously loud buzzing that that lever had caused. He backed up, almost squawking when he walked straight into someone and spinning to see the only person could be. Loki glared down at him, grabbing his arm and hauling him away from the wall where wires Tony hadn’t even seen before were now lighting up and sparking the place with too much electricity.

"What did you _do_?" Loki snarled in his face, his grip bruising as he looked down at the hallway with a look on his face that told Tony so much. Told him that this had never happened before. Loki hadn't explored this part of the house, otherwise he would definitely have tried that lever. The stiff doors should have been the first tell really, they'd been unopened for years, but only now does Tony actually get it. "What is this?"

Thinking back to the Omega's lying on the gurney, Tony's mouth answered for him before his mind could even catch up, "Electroshock." He answered promptly and Loki stared at him, narrowing his eyes. Right now, as confused as Tony was, he looked a whole lot less evil and a lot more human. That image was ruined when Loki shoved him to one side however, further away from the wires, and stormed into the room to turn it off.

Tony took the opportunity to avoid his anger and to follow the wires down the hallway; to find out where the shocking had taken place. He'd probably find more bodies but right now, getting away from Loki was at the top of his "want" list.

Wires continued to buzz and when he heard Loki bark out his name to tell him how to stop it, he suppressed a smug smirk at knowing the guy wanted help. The sound was unbearable though and he walked with his hands to his ears, flinching at the sparks flying out from old copper until he came to the door that they all finally stopped at.

Poking it, his finger came away un-shocked and un-burnt, so he pressed his whole palm against it and shoved. The wires continued to an adjacent room and he kicked it open this time, wincing as the noise intensified as he did.

There was another gurney in the middle of this room, wires tangled around it, and the body of a young man strapped down on top of it. More bodies then.

Oh, wow. This. Was much worse.

Tony's stomach turned to stiff ice just as his breathing quickened at the sight, and he stared — could only stare — as the man on the gurney juddered with every electric-shock, spasming and shaking. Dead and still being tortured. God, he needed to shut it off.

He was shaking, and for once, it wasn’t because of Loki.

Turning around to run back toward the office, the wires suddenly grew dark and the electricity fizzled out around him. Loki must have figured it out then. Turning back, Tony stared as the man's arms sagged against the bonds holding him and smoke rose from around his forehead. Tilting his head curiously, Tony walked inside, putting his arm over his nose to cover the smell as he did.

Hm. Could that work?

He could. Could he? Maybe.

He could ram the helmet over Loki's head when he’s not expecting it (have to plan more for that first), turn on the lever and not stop until he lets him out of here. He wanted to hear him scream, vowed to before, this could be just the trick.

The man on the gurney stared unseeingly up at him, almost accusingly, and Tony lowered his arm with a grimace; feeling undeservingly guilty at exploiting this man's torture for his own purposes. But, he supposed, they _were_ both Omega's trapped here. And he'd be damned if he'd let himself die like —

" _Get_ out of there Stark."

Tony looked up at him slowly, narrowing his eyes, a sudden influx of courage filling him when he noticed that Loki didn’t come any closer toward the electric wires in the room. "Why? Scared I'm going to kill myself again?" He looked down at the man, wondering if he should close his eyes for him. Give him the respect that none of them here had gotten. "Well rest assured, big guy, I'm not about to _electrocute_ myself to death."

"Stark." Loki said warningly, stepping forward. Tony ignored him, reaching out to close the man's lids. "That man is diseased."

Tony paused, not even blinking, before that registered. “How’d you know?”

”I can see it. On his body. Now get out of there.”

”No.” Tony stared down at the dead. “If staying here is what it takes to get you away from me, then I’m not moving.”

Evidently, that was the wrong thing to say as Loki suddenly strode into the room at that, ignoring the snaps of electric that sparked at him as he walked. Tony tried to back away but there really was nowhere else that he could go and suddenly it registered completely that he was in the room with a dead man. Who he had just _electrocuted_ by accident.

He pressed a hand to his mouth, swallowing and staring up at Loki. Loki paused himself, looking down at him almost softly as though he knew what Tony was thinking. "I want to leave." Tony demanded quietly, an Omega commanding an Alpha which meant, obviously, that the brief show of kindness was over and Loki was practically throwing him out of the room; sealing the door shut behind them. "Wait. N — I need to bury him, we can't — "

"Would you bury them _all_?" Loki scoffed angrily, his voice as hoarse as it had been when he’d yelled at Tony before. For trying to stab himself. "This house is full of corpses, you'd be wast — "

"Wasting my _time_?” Tony shouted at him, “Wasting my time in giving these people some fucking _respect_? Of course that's 'wasting time' to you 'cause you don't _get_ respect do you, you — " Loki pressed him against the wall, holding him there with a grip on his hips, and staring down with his hot breath over Tony's face as they're pulled together.

"If you cannot cope with seeing the dead. _Stay away_ from them."

"I — "

"There are parts to this house that I have not seen either but understand this. I will seal every room, lock every door, and barricade you inside only one if you continue to look through them all like this. I would rather have you sane than — "

"Why _live_ here then? Jesus, how have _you_ not gone insane, or more insane than you already were, unless you've just been banging the fucking corp — " Loki backhanded him, gentler than his other times, but it still knocked Tony's head back. Anger clouded over his face which made it clear that necrophilia was clearly a topic best left alone.

"We live here, Stark, because I haven't any other choice. Now follow me. _Away_ from here."

Wait. What? "Hang on. What do you mean, you've got no _choice_? What's stopping you from leaving? Is there a — " A hand was pressed to his mouth, clamping his jaw shut and he bit his tongue at the movement but then magic was filling him up from the toes upward and he was falling forward into Loki's chest anyway.

His eyelids drooped and Loki lifted him onto his shoulder, striding out of the room fast enough that the door swung shut at the breeze his legs kicked up.

There were two things that Tony last thought of before succumbing to the magic-induced sleep. The first was over what else the other rooms could have inside.

And the second. The second was that he was sure, suddenly so sure, that this was all just Loki. Loki's idea to scare him, to frighten him into submission.

Or at least. He really fucking hoped it was.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm really hoping this doesn't put some of you off. I promise this won't turn into a horror story, though it kind of was for a bit anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter in apology for the long wait :)

* * *

Tony woke swamped in blankets, in the same old room that he had always seemed to wake up in around here.

Loki was beside him, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at nothing and, at first, that jarred a sharp sense of shock in Tony at seeing him so close, but then everything that he had seen before came flooding back into his mind and the next moment, he was rolling and puking over the wooden floor.

Loki was silent where he sat, not even looking at him and only shifting when Tony rolled back with a moan, a hand to his mouth and the other rubbing his throat. There was a cloth on the floor; it had spots of blood on it and his foot was stinging from what must have been the glass that he'd stood on before. He'd not realized, not focused on that, but now — God, it hurt.

"Whuh — " He coughed, turning toward Loki. He still wasn't facing him, wasn't looking at anything and for some reason, Tony's imagination immediately told him that that must mean that he was dead. That his face had been cut up like the bodies around here and — bile rose all over again but he swallowed with a grimace at the burn, closing his eyes for a second to compose himself. "What — are you doing?"

Loki didn't say anything. Didn't even move at all. Tony resisted the urge to grab him by the arm and to haul him around; to see that he actually _wasn't_ dead and to show his stupid mind that he was just in shock from all of this and not —

Loki stood and Tony flinched, both involuntarily and automatically all at the same time, but nothing happened to him. Instead, Loki directed his words to the door, his voice low and monotoned, "Do not leave this room."

Tony slid over the bed, pushing himself up until he could sit and lean against the headboard, staring at him, "Y — "

Again. Slowly. Loki ordered him, "Stay. Here. Stark." Before walking toward the door, opening it, and leaving. Tony stared after him, a sudden burst of undeniable anger rising to his chest at the amount of control that Loki assumed he had over him, and he immediately tried to follow against any likely benefit to his own body.

His legs locked however, his arms spinning as he tried to catch himself but he tumbled off of the bed with his lower limbs completely frozen. Right. He forgot that Loki somehow knew him so well.

Pulling himself up with his hands, he fell against the blankets and sighed, looking up at the ceiling and praying that there wasn't another body in the room above this one.

Once he was back against pillows, his legs unfroze — of course — and he slumped face-first onto the fur, everything aching with whatever pressure Loki's magic had forced onto him. Hazy and just so tired from all of this, he closed his eyes and repressed his need to fight back and try and leave all over again.

It didn't take long for him to sleep, his heat having sapped so much energy from him and he'd need some to catch up on that, but nightmares kept him awake longer than his body wanted anyway.

He thought of other things, of _anything_ else to distract himself, but thoughts of his team just brought up the bitter homesickness that he was trying so hard to repress, and any other memory was suddenly covered with blood and electricity and torture.

His sleep ended up being fitful anyway, after that.

 

_**~** _

* * *

__

_**~** _

__

In and out of consciousness, he was aware of the door opening twice. Blankets were moved over his body, cold seeped into the room to chill the sweat on his skin, and water was poured down his throat as hands lifted his head to stop him from choking on it.

His hands batted at anything that touched him, his eyes half-open and his mouth as uncoordinated as every other limb right now. He knew it was Loki, and he'd rather that than anything else in this house, but even with it being him, he still wanted to push back and rip away any bit of skin that he'd touched.

Drifting in sleep, he vaguely knew that this was all due to magic. Knew Loki was doing this — to keep him pliant enough for him to biologically sustain and keep healthy — and that at least taught him that Loki understood Alpha responsibility but it didn't change anything about what he'd done to him.

He won't let it change that.

 

.

Blood was on his mind when he awoke again, with a raw throat and a throbbing headache. Echoes of his screams rebounded back toward him in the empty room and the memory of a hand on his forehead was one of the only things that he could feel for a while. Rolling out of the bed, his knees hit the wood and he bit his tongue at the scrapes that that caused, staggering to his feet with pure relief over how Loki hadn't frozen his limbs again.

He felt dazed. Like everything had all somehow been a dream. The cloth had gone from the floor, emphasizing that thought, but the scar of healed skin on the heal of his foot spoke otherwise. He'd stood on glass. That had happened. _Yesterday_ had happened.

His hand slipped under him, and he fell back against the bed, hitting the hole that Loki's fist had made before. Extra candles had been placed in the room, giving it some more light than he remembered it having and it took all he had not to puke again. That seemed to be the only thing he'd consistently been doing and he was growing tired of it.

Pain from sex, however, was something that his body was still healing from and Loki had evidently not touched him while being unconscious, which was relieving yeah, but it might also mean that the guy had just left Tony here again.

Alone. In this house.

He stretched everything out as he stood there, slowly walking toward the door to find out. He half-expected it to be fully barred, like Loki had threatened before, but it opened under his touch and he peeked out of the doorway at the hallway.

Nothing that he could see out of place was true for both sides and candles flickered as he rushed past them toward the stairs once he'd deemed it 'safe' enough. He left the room's door open, letting it's light give him some out here, and carefully walked down the stairs to — "I told you to stay there." The world teetered with how fast Tony turned, his heart in his throat and his mouth open in a sound that he would have once denied but now was so used to making.

"Shit — " He stopped, leaning against the bannister and staring at him. He wasn't in armor now, but in clothes from Earth. A grey shirt, black trousers and a glass of that same red liquid that he'd been drinking when Tony had first seen him here. He floundered for something to say, something to reply with, but his mind was a complete blank and still in a state of numb shock from everything and all he could do was start a mantra of 'I, I, Is'. "I — " Loki stepped toward him. Tony stepped back; down a step on the stairs. "I — um. I hate this place."

Loki didn't answer him but he didn't seem particularly surprised or angry at Tony's disobedience either and that was either good or ... really bad.

After about a minute of just looking at each other, Loki eventually walked past him down the rest of the steps, barefooted just as Tony was for once, and he handed the glass in his hand to him as he passed. Tony took it wordlessly — barely even remotely surprised that being bonded had changed how he responded to things because he had just _taken something someone else had handed to him_  — holding onto it's stem as he watched him continue to walk down until he turned into the room opposite the kitchen.

A little baffled and lost, Tony sniffed over the rim of the glass. Red wine.

For days now, he'd heard glasses tinkling downstairs and Loki had never seemed to do anything else around here besides leave, fuck Tony, or sit around drinking this stuff. Wallowing or lazing and getting drunk was more Tony's thing and he'd craved alcohol for days now as a result of deprevation.

Ignoring what his self-preservation instincts were telling him, as usual, he took a sip of the wine — hummed his appreciation at the taste — and drank the rest of it in one go.

Glass tinkled again downstairs and Tony twirled the one that he'd been given in his hands, looking down the hallway toward the torture rooms with his blood cold at the thought of what was inside them all. He drained the last drop of wine and followed Loki down the stairs.

More candles had also been lit in this room as well and the statues that Tony had destroyed before when trying to get out of this place were stacked in pieces in it's far corner. Loki sat by the table, a beautifully designed glass jug full of wine before him and several other glasses scattered around. His face was grim, his eyes red, and the sudden surge of protectiveness that Tony felt toward his seemingly vulnerable Alpha was undoubtedly due to his hormones and he ignored it, replacing it all with a smug sort of satisfaction instead.

Evidently, he'd not been the only one affected by yesterday's discovery.

Loki's eyes were drooping, his casual clothing abnormal to see and, despite him sitting so calm in contrast to how irrational he usually was, Tony could still feel the urge to run when looking at him. It was just a shame that his brain was telling him that company would be good for him right now, and that every Omega instinct was pushing him toward curling into Loki's lap.

He didn't move, hating himself for that urge, and watched as Loki poured himself some more wine. It took gallons more alcohol for Thor to get drunk, Tony knew from experience, but Loki had been likely drinking this stuff for four days straight. Maybe even before he'd taken Tony away as well. He'd never slurred but — getting drunk was apparently something Asgardians did a little differently. Figures someone like Loki would choose to do it with _wine_ of all things.

"Join me." Loki spoke up after a few minutes of Tony just standing there, watching him. Tony didn't move for a while but, eventually — with nothing else to really do instead — he walked forward to sit on a chair that he remembered overturning and throwing around at doors before. He dragged it backward over the carpet, further from Loki and nearer to the other side of the table; sliding onto it's plush cushion with as impassive an expression as he could muster.

Loki didn't react to his sudden obedience at all and simply took another long sip of the wine, his lips almost stained a dark red from how much he must have been drinking already.

For a long while, the only sounds were the glasses hitting each other and the slight gulp of Loki's throat as he swallowed every sip at a pace that Tony was almost impressed at.

Fiddling with his hands did nothing to distract him, looking around was worse and looking at Loki only spurred more questions into his mind.

Candles flickered and he gazed into the flame of one instead — watching the fire dance in blue and gold — his body so wired from the drips of adrenaline that were still left over, but now that he was slowly coming down from that high, it was more-or-less just leaving him feeling resigned. Slightly depressed even.

Loki drank some more in front of him.

"Why did you bond with me?" The glass was set down, refilled and drained. Tony tried again. "Why did you. Bond. With me?" He waited. Glass clinked as Loki filled it up. Fine then. "Loo— "

"I said join me, Stark. Not _question_ me." Okay. He was definitely slurring now. And even though he knew that he still wouldn't get any answers, this could maybe still be useful for him. He just needed to figure out how. Leaning forward, Tony schooled his face into something cold, as angry as he'd wanted to look at Loki before, all the times where his stupid fear had gotten in the way of him fighting back.

Loki didn't even look at him and the silence between them was becoming suffocating.

"I could try and kill you right now, you sick fuck." And now, Loki looked at him slowly, lifting the jug on habit to fill his glass some more.

"Could you."

"You're drunk. Or — you're getting there." Tony shrugged. "I could." Why was he telling him this, he'd barely had a glass himself. Or maybe he was just getting drunk on this bag of mixed pheromones that Loki's body was throwing toward him right now.

Fear should be taking over now anyway, after what he'd said, because from what he knew of Loki's temper, it would probably be kicking in right about now. But, instead, Loki just smiled; to whatever he found funny about this situation.

"Ah. But then you would be _all_ alone in a house full of the dead. And with no way out, that you know of." He raised the glass to his lips, realized it was empty and refilled it again. "My magic does not die _with_ me, Stark. You would still be trapped here, only with my body to add to the others in every room." He could be lying. But he probably wasn't. Not when the smell coming off from him was so thick with honesty at this moment, his walls lowered in his drunken state.

And besides. After everything he'd seen here, Tony wasn't about to risk it. Not now.

Guess that was what Loki thought was so funny.

"Is _magic_ the reason you haven't got a 'choice' in staying here?" Loki drank more wine, his lips stretching as his smile widened around the glass's rim at the humor he found in Tony's question. That was a 'no' then. "Your enemy status, then."

The glass was set down and Loki sat up straighter, his voice raspy; raw. "Wrong again, Stark." The jug was almost completely finished. A thin line of wine still swimming in it's base. Tony opened his mouth to comment but — "Ask me — another question, Stark, and I ... " He trailed off, circling the rim of his glass with an idle finger, not even seeming to realize that he'd left his sentence unfinished. Tony would have called him out on how pathetic he was being, did he not know that if he'd had access to alcohol for all this time, he would probably have been doing the exact same thing down here as well.

Maybe he could appeal to his better nature like this. "Let me go." It wasn't a question but Loki didn't flip out. He didn't answer either and simply sat back against the sofa again, his finger dropping from the glass to thud over the table. "... please."

Silence filled the room for a while again after that, and Tony took in a deep breath, lowering his head and running his hands through his hair, "Can I at least shave?" He asked, hating his voice for cracking at the end but he supposed he could excuse himself for now. "Shower? Let my digestive system do it's work again, now that my heat's finally fucking over." Still. Nothing. Tony kept talking, filling the silence. "I mean, I get that you won't give me anything sharp or whatever but there's got to be some sort of magic stuff that you could do to help me get rid of this stubble. A shower's not exactly dangerous either, so how about that?" Silence again, but that didn't deter Tony at all. He needed to keep talking, he _needed_ to hear his voice. "Where the hell _is_ the bathroom in this place anyways? Covered with bodies or something, like everything else is?"

Loki shut his eyes, sighing; tilting his head back with his mouth half open. Tony swallowed, staring at him. "Where do _you_ go, when you need it?" He continued, " _Do_ you ever need it? Thor uses the loo sometimes, I've seen him go in and I'm pretty sure that he knows what that room's for, so ... you must, right? So where do you go? In a pot? A bottle?" Loki's finger tapped a slow beat on the table. Tony stiffened at the sound, reminding him of things he would rather forget. "Would — there be anything to do anyway? I don't think you've had anything but this wine and — "

"Chambourcin." Loki interrupted and Tony stopped. Loki opened an eye to look at him. "The owners to this delightful house have thousands of it's bottles to spare." So it was _theirs_ then. God, Tony hoped it actually was wine if that was the case, and not — uh. Not something else.

"I — right." Taking another breath, Tony focused more on the conversation than who it was he was having it with. Well. He called it conversation but it was really anything but. Keeping Loki as mellow as this, though, would probably be in his best interests anyway but that didn't stop the dull weight in the pit of his stomach from forming whenever every movement and gesture this guy did reminded him of what he had done to him.

Fuck whatever his Omega side was telling him; he didn't forgive easily and that wasn't about to change. "So where do you piss, then?"

Loki opened his other eye to stare up at the ceiling, his neck so exposed that Tony suddenly wanted a knife to — flashes of that Omega, the middle-aged man that had been chained to the wall, cut apart and left to bleed out, blurred in his mind's eye and he turned away as though that would repel the memory. "There is a room within the room beside yours. There was blood but I — well. There is no blood now." He really was drunk wasn't he. If Tony had some sort of plan, some sort of way out of here, or an urge to inexplicably go insane, he could definitely take advantage of this. As it was, however, the only thing that he could think of right now was to seduce Loki into releasing him — something that could work with how he was behaving right now — but the thought just made him sick.

He may be a whore when it came to any sort of situation, but he'd at least die a whore with standards. The right standards at least. Standards that Steve Rogers would look down on and say, _well done you idiot, you finally did something moral for once_.

He guessed that only time would tell him whether those standards were worth it or not. He wasn't against using his Omega pheromones to lull Loki into full-on Alpha protection mode though, and to convince him that letting Tony go was best for both of them — it worked nicely on convincing Rhodey to not leave him for even a _second_ after Afghanistan — but he was a little too afraid that Loki would take it too far and his body can only take so much abuse before it gives up.

"Where do you go every day?" Tony blurted out after another prolonged silence and Loki stood at that, abrupt enough that it sent Tony recoiling back into his seat. For a minute, it looked like he was going to leave, but then he just walked toward the wall with the pile of broken statues and leant his forehead against it; looking down at Hansel's head where it stuck beside Gretel's on the floor. Tony blinked. "I've heard the front door open so many times before. Where do you go?"

Hansel's hand was picked up and turned over and around, long fingers stroking it's groves; again and again.

 _Say something_!

"What the hell is your _problem_?" Tony suddenly shouted out, mild hysteria in his voice at the threat of being ignored like this; probably at least until his next heat. Was that all he was good for here? Was that really all Loki _wanted_? Everything he'd shouted and threatened before could all be explained away — but not excused — by his Alpha instincts, telling him to own the Omega before him, but his actions then-and-now spoke differently and, God, Tony wouldn't be comfortable with silence anyway but in this _house_ — " _Talk to me._ " He stopped and, only when he actually closed his mouth after his stupid baiting, shouts, did he realize what he'd just done.

Shit.

He ran a hand down his face, his mind whirling, and he knew now that Loki was never going to 'talk' to him after what he'd said. Maybe one or two sentences, orders, but not conversation. Because, and he had his big mouth to thank for this, if Loki knew how much this silence was affecting him, then he'd only want to continue to ignore Tony and make it worse. This was just like his allergies again — damn it, he needed a brain-to-mouth-filter.

He should have actually looked into it after all of those times that Pepper had told him to gain one.

Taking a breath, he tried a different strategy. "Look." Loki palmed a hand over the wall, looking at it like it was the most interesting thing in the world and that was just slightly off-putting. "You're — obviously not willing to do much right now, and trust me, I'm really glad about that. Really." He could _totally_ handle not being used until his next heat, and if Loki was as mellow as this in the meantime then that left Tony with a month to plan a way to get around it or to get out of here. "But can you at least answer me some _questions_ instead?" Calm down. Don't make things worse. "You at least fucking owe me that after what you've — "

Loki's hand slid from the wall as he stated: "I owe you nothing."

Well, at least he spoke, but — "God, do you even _feel_ anything?" Tony spat at him, his mouth running on it's own accord by now. Hansel's hand was now a crumbling mess of marble and dust, and that should be frightening. Should be, and was to an extent, but it was also very helpful in learning Loki's pressure points. What buttons to push. "At all?" Loki didn't turn to him, didn't look at him, didn't say anything and Tony bit the inside of his cheeks hard at how that felt. Every shadow flickered in the candlelight, Loki's own one huge compared to his body and looking almost headless with how far he'd lowered his neck to look down.

Sighing in an attempt to release any excess anger, Tony reached forward and lifted a clean glass, drinking the last drops of wine himself; wanting to leave the room, but not wanting to be alone. Wanting to get away from Loki, but not wanting to be fucking _alone_.

This had to be some sort of ploy. It must be.

Glass fell from his grip and didn't smash. Tony's right middle finger twitched and he clenched that hand hard. "Why did you bond with me?" He whispered, looking up from where he sat. Loki's shoulders were hunched in an almost bored stance, his hands limp at his sides but the unmistakable anger was radiating from his body. Tony had already stood before he'd actually turned, having rightfully guessed that his temper was finally out now. And drunk or not, he was fast enough to get in his way when he tried to leave the room. "Fuck off — "

Loki's hands reached for his shoulders in a viciously hurried gesture before stopping, his knuckles cracking when he held them back and he turned his face away with a snarl, "I _told_ you to stay in that room."

Oh for — "You 'told' me to _join_ you here." Loki rubbed at an eye with his forefinger, his mouth lined thin and his skin almost grey. He looked — Tony narrowed his eyes — he looked ill.

 _Good_.

Tony shoved at him and he actually stumbled, which was more exhilarating than it should have been, but it must have only been because he'd not expected it because he didn't even budge at his next push. "Just tell me why you bonded with me!"

"I _have_ told you, you little —"

"No. You said — "

Stepping closer, Loki's hand trailed down Tony's bare arm, light enough to be gentle but still making Tony flinch back from the touch. "Your second cycle. I told you." Tony stared, holding his arm out of reach from any unwanted touches. "To have all the power that I want." He blinked, trying to remember that, trying to remember what Loki had said, but in a heat cycle every memory that wasn't sex was almost always too hazy to recall. He vaguely remembered shouting, remembered Loki not answering his accusations about what he wanted, which could be what he was referring to, but even so that didn't —

"That doesn't make enough sense to be an answer. You're always after something specific, from what I've heard and seen of you. Power's too vague an answer and — "

"Oh why bother me with this?" Loki muttered tiredly, reaching behind him for the chair to take a seat again, "You know this. You are naught, to me, but a past-time that I've created for myself while I deal out what it is in the world that I really want."

Tony's heart clenched at whatever that made him feel so he stuck to the facts the repress what he really wanted to say to that bastard. "Bonding with me doesn't give you free rein in the world."

Loki paused. "No? It does if I use my words right."

That wasn't right. "So what you're saying is that you're gaining political footing? Because I've not seen any Avenger bodies lying around here so _they_ can't be what you're after. Otherwise you would have paraded them around for me to see, or at least taunted about what you're doing to them. Ruining their names or reputations, or just plain killing them off. That's what you're like." Finally, he could think.

"I think I prefer you in heat."

Of course he would. "Yeah, you and half the planet." Tony glared, clenching his fists. "So what is it you want? What are you doing to my life out there?" Loki stood and walked past him. Tony grabbed at his arm, no longer afraid of reaching out now that his skin wasn't a furnace for desire, and he lowered his voice; knowing just what the perfectly right tone would do to an Alpha.

Ever since he'd turned sixteen, he'd gotten the method down just right and had 'hypnotized' his fair share of Alpha's before — though it only lasted a short while and had been the cause for a lot of criticism over his life; where people hadn't been sure over whether he'd gotten partners because of his persuasive skills and intelligence or just because he knew how to ask an Alpha the _right_ way. He'd no idea if it would work on someone like Loki though. "Loki. You know that you should tell me this. I have a right to know."

Loki didn't move and, for a second, something like hope actually sparked inside of Tony's chest at the chance for an escape or for information. But then he was only pushed backward and Loki's arm was yanked out of his grip.

So much for knowing the methods, then.

Loki shouldered past him, staggered once in a drunken state of dizziness, before feeling his way past the doorway and into the kitchen opposite. The doors locked and sealed behind him while Tony watched and when nothing else happened he was left to just stand there and to look around at the room.

Lost in what to do with himself. A feeling that he _hated_ having.

  
Well he wasn't going to just stay here, then.

 

* * *

 

There were 780 Beta's on the lists of victims in the office. 69,000 Omega's alongside them. Opening the drawers to the table only really showed him nothing else, other than just more and more spiders, and there weren't any keys or cameras or tapes or logs. This place was starting to look a lot more like a place for killing Omega's rather than an experimentation facility, and he didn't know which of those made him feel sicker.

The office was pretty much useless after that. The coat had nothing in it's pockets — besides a scalpel that he narrowly avoided slicing his palm open with — and other than that and the table, there wasn't really anywhere else to look.

That, then, only left the other rooms.

Bracing himself for what he might see, Tony was extra careful to not let Loki hear him from downstairs when he opened the door opposite the office. The ones that he'd been inside already had been sealed shut with that paste now, had been when Loki had dragged him out of them, but others were still open and unlocked. Loki, clearly, avoided them just as much as Tony did, for whatever reason, and that shouldn't be as comforting as it was, but it as least gave him something to do with his time and mind.

There was something in the way of the door when he tried it and he had to forcefully shove at it, numerous times, to actually get inside. Glancing down immediately to ensure that it wasn't another body, he instead saw a stack of empty folders laid out on the floor. Shelves were lined behind them, bottles and boxes, syringes in a pot and a plastic wallet with name cards inside. He reached for those first, holding the door open with his hip and kicking the folders out of the way when he needed to step forward.

A red binder was easily used as a door stopper then and Tony knelt beside it as he read over the cards; listening out for the door downstairs. Every name had a profession beside it, most of them Doctors or Nurses, though there were one or two lawyers as well. He couldn't tell which of the solemn faces were the current owners of the house but he counted 129 names in the pile; at least. Each with a birth and death date, barring five who must still be alive or who hadn't had their deaths written down.

These were the killers then, over the years.

Dumping the cards back into the wallet, Tony threw the back out of the room to take back to 'his' for a more thorough look. He straightened then, clicking the bones in his legs as he stood, and looked at the shelf instead.

The bottles there were mostly filled with bodily fluids, one full of what must be _years_ -old urine that made him almost hurl at the smell but what struck him most was that it's label said "water". He really hoped that this wasn't what they gave to the Omega's to drink and that that label was only a mistake or a refusal to remove it after the water from inside had been finished. Torture was bad enough but if they'd treated them like _animals_ then if there were any surviving members of this place, they'd better wish that they were already dead if he ever found them.

There was blood in this room as well but, as far as he could tell, no bodies. It was a stock room. Small, cramped and full of all sorts of things that both interested and disgusted him. He tried to lift a bottle of cyanide off of the shelf but it was frozen down just as everything else in the house was, and thinking on that he guessed that whatever Loki had done with his magic must apply to _all_ objects in this place; even the ones that he didn't even know about himself.

There were bottles of acid too. Used and unused syringes. Rows upon rows of knives and scalpels.

They must have had funding from somewhere, to get all this stuff. Someone must have been helping them in government.

How did _no one_ ever find out about this place?

He'd figured that this would be exactly what Project O, the leading Pressure Group on Omega rights, would use as a verbal weapon in every event that they held. People would have known about it, even if they hadn't wanted to but — with all this — it just didn't seem to be the case.

Leaving the room, he left the door open in a spiteful statement of his toward Loki; telling him that he couldn't and wouldn't ever control him into doing what he wanted. He just hoped that it wouldn't backfire and cause him to seal every other room instead. So, actually. On second thoughts. Tony turned back and pulled the door shut after him, spinning around again before —

He noticed a sign on the door's peeling paint. Blackened from what looked like fire and smeared with old vomit, so it was barely readable and just on the wrong side of repulsive. Squinting, he could vaguely make out the words "supplies" and "stock". So he'd been right about what the room was then. And if this room had a sign, then ... maybe the others did too. Maybe the office had _names_ on it. He could find out who they —

A door opened downstairs.

Well, he'll check that out later.

 

_**~** _

* * *

_**~** _

 

Tony piled the name cards in stacks according to differences. On his left were the males and by his right, the females. He sat cross-legged under the blankets between them, sorting through each card until he could work some things out.

He stacked males with British Nationalities alone, and vice-versa with the females — and continued like that according to where they all came from. By the time he was done, there was almost an even spread from around half the world. This place had clearly been very popular, evidently.

Now. If he could only find out where they were all 'stationed', he could find the rooms that they'd been in and maybe even find a schematic or a map of this place. Find himself a way out.

A Mr. Gregory Havies looked promising so far. He had a ' _Doctor_ ' beside his name but on the back of his card, his profession also included _engineering_. He would have had to have been in charge of a map then and if he had an office around here, Tony could then have a look around for one. He'd maybe even find a torch too, because God knew, he wanted one badly. The candlelight only increased the chances of his imagination getting the better of him and giving him a heart attack every few seconds and adding that to everything else, it was a bit of nuscience than anything else and he was getting really fucking tired of being afraid of 'ghosts'.

The grandfather clock chimed downstairs in a way of telling him that time was passing, but without looking at it, he had no idea what time it actually _was_. His legs ached though and he'd probably been at this for hours. Loki hadn't come upstairs once and the front door hadn't opened. Maybe he was passed out, drunk, in the kitchen. Tony could go down and tie him up, torture him with whatever wasn't magically pinned down until he gave him the key out of here.

But if he wasn't passed out, then Tony would be walking toward him at his most angriest. Drunk and angry, not a good combination, especially in Loki, and he'd much rather keep his body intact right now. At least now he had a plan. All he had to do was keep Loki from finding the cards.

Packing them up in an order he could unpick once alone again, he laid them under three boxes in the cupboard and began his regular slow, creep downstairs. The kitchen door was still sealed and touching it did nothing except give him a slight shock from magic.

Trying to get inside probably wasn't a good idea if Loki was awake in there, but there really was nothing else he could do. He wanted to look through the other doors upstairs but wasn't really up to facing what he might find after seeing and smelling all that fluid and blood in the stock room. The grandfather clock ticked beside him and he glanced at it, noting that — according to it's snake-shaped hands — it was apparently either 1am or 1pm.

He walked back upstairs slowly, about to close to door to his room before freezing at the sound of the kitchen's ones opening. That. Immediately spurred him into action and he launched himself away from the door and toward the stairs again, trying to make it before Loki closed the door from the other side; having no clue about what he'd do if he got there, where Loki would probably just open the door and dump him back inside again anyway, but at least he'd have an idea about _where_ he was if he saw.

The door clicked shut just before he made it to the bottom of the steps, however — _no_! — and all he really managed to catch was the thunderstorm raging on outside. Clenching his fists in disappointment, he kicked the door hard in response, ignoring the pain that that gave him and heading back up the stairs all over again. He screamed out his frustration against the wall before moving away from the hanging old man and inside the room that he should probably dub as 'his' while he was here anyway.

The windows that he could see taunted him when he tried to look outside through them and they still shone out that dim, false sunlight even though he now _knew_ that it was heavy with rain out there.

He punched the wall angrily, trying to calm himself down and to stop overreacting over a missed chance but that was all this was. Chance.

Chance that Loki found him that night with Harrod. Chance that ruined his life in that damned night that was the start of all this. But, then again, from everything that he knows and from all that had happened, this was something that would probably have happened to him anyway; inevitable.

After a while of him fuming, he sat on the edge of the bed and cradled his slightly bleeding fist, laying back and staring up at the ceiling.

He zoned out once or twice, drifting as he had before, and he only really startled back to focus when his stomach growled. He ignored it, rolling over and curling up under the blanket instead. It was warm, comfortable. It made him feel a whole lot better to lie beneath it but he didn't sleep; just zoned again.

He picked at thoughts and memories in his head, trying to recall every single thing that Loki had said to him before, during and after his heat cycles.

And, eventually, he did fall asleep. To the memory of the words, " _an awful nightmare of yours ..._ "

 

**_~_ **

 

The hand on his forehead was warm. Dry. It felt both wrong and good for two different parts of his brain and biology and he found himself suddenly wide awake at the feel of it.

He snatched at it with a hand of his own, digging his nails in and wrenching it away from him. The Loki that he'd seen these past few days would have then laughed. Tony opened his eyes into darkness when he didn't.

Candles had been blown out and the room would have been almost pitch black were it not for his arc reactor's pulsing glow. "Don't fucking touch me."

Loki hummed once above him, sitting on the edge of the bed with one leg under the blanket where it was warm against Tony's bare arm, "I'll do what I want you, Stark. Don't forget that." With a sneer, Tony turned away, pushing himself further down the bed until he couldn't feel Loki at all. Unfortunately, he seemed to see that as opportunity to lie under the blankets fully with him, at which point Tony sat up and attempted to leave.

His legs locked and now, Loki laughed. More a chuckle really but it was more than enough to send Tony's blood boiling through his veins.

He was tugged then, as limp as he'd been when Loki had hurt him before, after he'd stabbed him in the back in his failed murder attempt. Instead of being pressed flush with his back to Loki's chest, however, his head was pulled down to rest on his neck. He pushed back, scratching with nails that had grown a little in the days he'd not spent snapping them on experiments, and pinching at skin he knew would be sensitive in certain areas. Loki was immovable however, a solid rock of flesh, and arms were pulled around to hold him there as he settled down on the mattress.

Tony didn't stop struggling but he wasn't hurt like he'd been last time. Or threatened. In contrast, Loki's breath on his face was warm and slow, scenting him as they lay there; smelling whatever emotion he was giving off right now.

"What is this." He murmured against the pulse that he could practically see beating just below Loki's adam's apple. He didn't get a reply but he knew that he was being listened to. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to do what you did to me and then just act like — " A hand curled over the back of his neck, giving him the same pinching feeling that had sent him to sleep all those times before, when Loki had obviously grown bored of the conversation, and he jerked back; struggling against him again until the hand fell back, "No no, don't, I — look, just _listen_ to me for once, will you!" Loki's arms tightened around him and Tony grit his teeth. "I — Loki, you have _everything_. You, literally, have my _entire_ life. You've stolen it _all_ , so please. Just give me _this_ at least."

Irritation didn't seem to be something that Loki wore well but he hid it quickly enough and rolled his tongue over his teeth. Tony said nothing. Did nothing. Just waited.

Eventually, with a forceful sigh, Loki shifted back until his face was only an inch from Tony's; his eyes a glowing green in the dark.

For a moment, Tony didn't know what to say anymore.

"Well?" Loki demanded impatiently, glaring at him. Tony swallowed, looking away from Loki's eyes for a second and knowing full well that he could feel his heart beating faster from where their skin touched like this.

Looking at him again, Tony narrowed his eyes, bringing his voice back down from a shout to only a murmur, "Why did you bond with me?" With a frustrated growl, Loki rolled his eyes to the side and pressed his face into the fur. Tony blinked at that bizzare response, trying to move back to see him a little clearer but the arms around him were still tightly locked and his legs wouldn't obey him. "Just tell me. Why?"

"Z." Loki answered, voice muffled in the fur, and even from the only angle that Tony could see of his face, he could tell that he looked like hell. He sounded it at least. Either hungover or as sick as he had looked before. In the dark, he couldn't see his skin but it felt warm. Warmer than it usually had before, and Tony would know. He'd had it push him around for days now, hadn't he.

"Are you dying?"

"Not even if I wished it a thousand times."

Tony looked at him, his eyebrows lowering into a frown and he titled his head, the tension in his shoulders leaking away as he gradually absorbed that statement. "Come again?"

Loki lifted his head to look at him, unimpressed, "Are all Midgardian Omega's rebellious in their nature or are you simply intent on being the most stubborn of them all." That had to be the most he'd said before that wasn't a threat or a taunt.

"Well you already seem to know me a lot better than I know myself, so why don't you tell me instead. And maybe it's just because _Asgardian_ Omega's just act so submissive that you've just gotten used to it all." If he sounded any more spiteful than he already did, his hair would probably turn white.

"I would not know." Loki answered slowly. "Asgard _has_ no Omegas."

Wait, what? Tony stiffened at that, taking it all in. No Omegas?  But if Asgard had no Omega's but, clearly, had Alpha's then — "How does that work?"

Another sigh and that pinching feeling was back. "No, wait!" Tony's fist hit Loki's cheek in an effort to stop it and that was apparently the wrong thing to do because then he was being held down and forced to give into that magic. The buzz that it gave him as it sunk down into his skin was cool, in contrast to Loki's skin, and he knew that he at least got a good blow in before he succumbed.

He was probably going to pay for that when he woke up, though.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely _love_ hearing from all of you darlings XDD  <333
> 
> I hope you continue to enjoy this fic!!


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

 

It was warm when Tony awoke. Warmer than he'd ever actually been in this house and he only really realized why when he recognized the feel of Loki's arms around his waist. Loki's neck against his cheek.

He swallowed, tilting his head back to check that the guy was still asleep before moving away properly. Loki lay on his side, hair fanned out around him and his eyes shut, his lips slack and half open and he was breathing softly; completely unaware of Tony's now-advantageous stand. Tony didn't even think before reacting to what he could see and what he could see was a vulnerable Loki lying just in front of him.

Reaching behind him for a pillow, Tony lifted it with a hand and shifted himself back — out of Loki's arms — with his other. The pillow might not even be of much use really but it could still possibly work; if he managed to hold it down the entire time, that was.

He barely got it over Loki's head, however, before a hand snatched his and forced it down. He didn't scream, didn't react, mostly because he'd expected it anyway, and Loki held it tight as he lay there; seemingly asleep though, obviously not. Although. Looking at him, he was still breathing the same, his eyes as shut as they had been before. Hm. Tony lifted the hand in his grip, shaking it. Loki didn't open his eyes but didn't release him either.

Tony's eyebrows rose. He was still asleep. Huh. Reflex then, probably. Interesting.

Lifting his other hand, Tony slid the one in Loki's clutch out with some effort and poked him in the chest. He didn't move. He waved a hand before his face and it wasn't even batted away. Slapping him across the face did nothing either. So. Evidently, it was only when Tony tried to hurt him with some _murderous_ intent then. Of course.

Sighing, he lay back down, further away from Loki now, when his neck began to get a crick at the angle he held it at. The ceiling offered him nothing to think about and the sound of Loki's breathing was more comforting than off-putting. It at least gave him something else to listen to other than the sounds the house made around them both.

His stomach was aching with hunger now, though, and he belatedly wondered what time it was and how long it had been since he'd last eaten. Loki shifted when he got out of the bed and Tony left the room quickly, not looking back to see if he'd woken as he knew that if he _had_ he'd probably stop in his tracks and stop himself from going where he wanted.

Loki tended to have that effect.

Unfortunately, apparently against there being light when he was sleeping, Loki had blown out more than a few candles and Tony had to feel himself around by patting the walls to actually make it to the stairs. He stumbled once or twice and hissed when his foot stubbed against one of the wires glued around, cursing under his breath.

Shadows danced at him and that damned mirror scared the hell out of him all over again as he passed it. For God's sake.

The stairs were harder to go down in the dark and he eventually ended up just lowering himself down, bit by bit, on his ass; thankful that when he made it, the foyer was lit at least.

The front door was still sealed, as usual, and Tony stared at it for a good long moment before turning to the kitchen and opening all of the cupboards. The same plates from before were within most of them and he took out a meal, eating it quickly.

The wine that Loki had been drinking wasn't here but there was water and some fruit. He looked at the painting on the wall as he ate, looking over each brush stroke of the ship and the water. The green sails that were all so detailed and designed.

To anyone else coming to visit, this place would have seemed so usual, so normal. No one would ever have guessed at the torture that had been going on upstairs.

Which reminded him. With one last bite that he impatiently shoved into his mouth, he took an orange with him — freshly peeled already — and ate it as he carefully made his way back upstairs again. In this light, he couldn't possibly be able to see any names on the doors but he could at least pin-point _which_ of the doors had names, even if he couldn't make them out to remember.

Most of the doors were blank as he walked down the corridor though and, in the dark, it was so much more frightening to move past them than it had been before, but he needed to get out of here and to do that, he needed to exploit every single moment Loki wasn't watching him like a hawk. Or — holding him down for anything else.

He jerked to a halt when he almost walked right by a door that had a plaque over it's face, lost in his thoughts, but the name was more a smudge than anything else and he couldn’t see it. It was definitely telling him that this was an office, though, and that meant that he had been right in thinking so about this place. Which he usually was anyway, so that shouldn't be surprising.

Wiping at the muck with his elbow, he dusted himself off after and squinted. Nope. He couldn't see it at all, but at least he now knew that door number 15 had a name on it.

About to continue on to look at others, he heard a door open down the other side of the corridor, and immediately backed into a corner; pressing himself flat to the wall and pressing a hand over his own mouth and nose to silence any noise he might involuntarily make.

Loki walked out of the room slowly, running a hand through his hair and glancing up, once, at the old man above him when he walked past toward the stairs. For a moment, he stopped, sighed, and then looked down at whatever it was he saw on the floor. Tony followed his gaze, unable to see whatever it was until Loki picked it up, and then he realized. An orange piece.

Damn.

Throwing it to one side, Loki looked down the corridor to where Tony was hiding, narrowing his eyes as he tried to see where he was, before shaking his head and turning away. As he walked down the stairs, candles began to light up around him, and Tony blinked, staring after him and staying as far back as he could until he finally went around the corner and was gone from sight.

Okay.

Carrying on, Tony went over to the door and tried to make out the name in this new light. He suddenly wished that he had paper on him, just to keep a note.

There was a DR. that he could make out and his eyes hurt with how far he squinted. There was an M too. That left about 55 people really that this office could be for, then. Not much for narrowing down.

Using an orange piece, Tony squeezed out it's juice carefully to clear some of the dirt from around the gold of the plaque, narrowing his eyes at what he could finally see; going on his tip-toes to make sure he saw it right. DR Henry Mackeltry.

Huh. Not what he was looking for but, well. It was a start at least.

Before he turned away, however, he paused, his heart jumping in his throat as he didn’t hear or sense but — more _smelt_ Loki standing behind him. He didn't move. Loki said nothing. "I, uh — “ He swallowed, looking up at the door, “Was looking for the bathroom."

Loki shifted behind him. "Mm."

Mm. Tony blinked twice, biting on the inside of his lips. What did 'mm' mean? 'Yes, okay?' 'Sure I believe that'. Or 'shut the hell up, you lying idiot, I see right through you'. "Seriously. I need to go."

”Of course.” Loki didn't say anything much after that, other than another hum, before he suddenly leant over Tony's shoulder and pushed the door before them both, open. "If you are so curious about all of this, Stark, then by all means. Take a look." His tone didn't leave much to imagination and Tony was pretty sure of what he would find behind that door now.

"No thanks. I'm guessing it won't be the bathroom." Moving him aside with a grip on his bicep, Loki didn’t answer and instead, just gestured that he walk on back toward the stairs. Tony didn't budge a step. "Does that mean that _you_ know what's in there, then?"

"No." The door was pulled shut. "But I imagine that it will be very unpleasant. Now move." Tony took a step back, and then stopped again.

"I thought you liked unpleasant."

"I _like_ being listened to."

”Yeah? Well, I like having freedom." Tony countered, angrily. "I like not being raped. I like — " His lips pressed together, stinging as they almost seemed to merge into one, and he staggered back with his fingers against them. Loki had done this before, but at least then it hadn't felt so wrong to —

"I suppose you like knowing that you are able to talk, as well?" Not expecting an answer, clearly, Loki released the magic and Tony gasped in the air that he'd lost in that one minute, licking his now suddenly dry lips and moving out of Loki's reach before he could try and grab his arm again. "Once you start listening to me Stark, I will not have to be so," He made a face, looking for the appropriate word, "Harsh. All of the time." Harsh. Understatement.

"Once you get it through your head that I'm only to make life hell on you if you don't, you'll figure out that letting me go will be the best course of action in this." Loki opened his mouth, probably to continue this annoying piece of banter, but Tony got there first, "You know I'll only find a way out anyway. At least this way, you'll get out alive. Because if I _do_ get out, I'm coming back to _kill_ you."

There was a pause. Deathly silent whilst Loki looked at him.

And then. Against everything Tony thought he'd do after he'd stupidly blurted that out, Loki laughed. Just out-rightly _laughed_. Not at all like his regular short, chuckles either — ones that were at Tony's expense — but like he actually found what Tony had said genuinely hilarious. Which is just a little more insulting than Tony could ever have thought him to be, about a fucking _threat_. He was serious here. And yet, all Loki seemed to do all the time, was deplete the seriousness of anything he did to him, or that Tony said or did to _him_ instead.

"Something funny?" He spat, glaring darkly at him, "You won't find it funny when — "

Loki leant against the door, looking down at him, his laughter dying down. "Ah Stark. I can't think of anything but to say that I _encourage_ you." What?

The smile was completely gone from his lips now, humor vanished in just a second, "Freedom, after all, is something that we all want. Is it not?" He pushed off of the wall, stepping closer. Tony refused to give in to his instinct and back away; standing his ground and glaring still.

"Then give me back _mine_."

"No." Tony punched him. It knocked his head to the side but did nothing else. Didn't even give him a mark. "No, again." Clenching his fists, Tony ground his teeth hard enough to hear it, and he was almost shaking with the anger he'd had building ever since his first heat cycle. "No means no, does it not? At least, that is what you said to me previously." Leaning closer, Loki raised an eyebrow, "Were you lying?" Tony punched him again, harder this time, but Loki only stroked his jaw at the blow and hummed in something close to disapproval.

"If you're just going to just stand there and be a prick, then fuck off. I'm busy."

"Yes, I see. Wandering through hallways full of corpses and trying to indulge in your _curiosity._." Loki folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head at him, "You will not follow me, will you?"

Tony frowned at him. "Follow you? Follow you, where? Downstairs?" Loki didn't answer. "No. Any of them is a 'no', so don't both — "

"Learn to obey your Alpha, Stark."

"I don't _have_ an Alpha, Loki." Loki scoffed but Tony didn't stop. "As far as I'm concerned, we're not bonded. You forced me, so it doesn't count. Not in my book."

"I'm sure your body will disagree on that."

"My body disagrees with me on a lot of things, fuckhead, but my mind almost always knows better than it anyway. So I can _ignore_ my instincts, I can ignore my urges, and I can _definitely_ ignore that you are my 'Alpha'." Sneering, he stepped to the side, "So get over yourself. And get out of my way."

"No." Tony lifted a leg to kick him but Loki's thigh was there before he could move, shoving him against the wall and holding him there. Shit, here we go.

Wires dug in as he struggled and the candle above him dripped a drop of hot wax down the back of his neck, making him grit his teeth against the burn. Loki held him tight, fingers biting into Tony's skin and he pulled back a hand to hit him. Tony flinched before he did, ducking his head and trying his best to avoid the strike, but the wall vibrated behind him when Loki chose to aim it at the — at the _candle_ instead.

The magic fire was hot, bright. It diminished into Loki's skin completely as Tony bit back a cry at the sight. Jesus.

Tony's chest tightened as his heart almost stopped when he watched as Loki didn't even _react_ to the fire burning into him, or to the wax turning his skin into a blistering, hot red mess. He stared at Tony, still holding him there as they both stared at each other, before pushing away as the pain in his hand obviously got worse.

He made it back two steps before turning toward him again and Tony froze where he was; just about to edge away before deciding against it and going rigid.

When Loki was like this, he was literally terrifying.

Loki's expression was dark, his eyes narrowed and piercing, and he darted back toward Tony instead of leaving like it looked he was about to a second ago. Hands bracketed Tony as he jerked back, forced him to stay still so Loki could actually beat him and not a candle this time, and he held his hands up defensively.

"Wait — “ His jaw was grabbed with Loki's uninjured hand but was released and pushed against the wall. His arm was grabbed and — and let go. He was pushed and then stopped, pushed and then tugged back. "Ah — " Loki's hands seemed to react in a fight but then stop with what they were doing, only to try again and Tony bounced between them in — at first — fear but then, confusion.

He hit his head when the manhandling continued and he tried to grab at Loki's shirt, to stop him, "A — what are you _doing_ , you — "

He barely managed to even guess at what Loki would try now before his throat was grabbed this time and used to lift him onto his toes; until he was gasping and gagging for breath.

Loki looked furious, his reddened hand shaking from the burns that were slowly seeping into his skin, and his eyes were so obviously pained by it. Tony tried to kick out, tried to hit that hand, to make it hurt some more — enough for Loki to at least let him go — but he missed. Loki drew back his own knee for a punishment and Tony tried to curl his in, to protect himself but he had no idea where he would aim and he —

He was let go. His leg hit a wire as he fell and he hissed out in pain, but he could stand almost immediately afterward anyway; if only to simply stare at Loki in both shock and anger. Loki, for his part, looked a little baffled himself and simply chose to storm past his body and to walk back downstairs, before Tony could even ask him what the hell that had been about.

A bruise blossomed over his thigh from where he'd fallen and his hands had pins and needles from the brief moment there that he'd had a lack of oxygen, but other than that he had come off a lot better than his other times with Loki.

He was barely hurt and, even when with the Avengers, Loki's punches and kicks had been something that you didn't recover from easily.

But other than a simple little bruise, he had nothing.

Okay. So. Either Loki's hand had given him a lot more pain that Tony had thought, or the guy was going completely crazy. How the hell had he _missed_ anyway. Tony had been right in front of him; the candle had been much higher. He couldn't have —

The kitchen door slammed shut downstairs and Tony slumped against the wall, running a hand down his face.

What the _hell_ was going on around here.

 

_~_

* * *

_~_

 

He forgot about the bruise as soon as he got back to looking over the doors but the memory of Loki's hand remained fixed in his mind.

He tried to put it away by looking through the name cards again, but with little luck, and that was probably only because nothing he found out actually helped him in this. Finding and separating DR Henry from the rest and checking over it all for any differences showed him that, other than a vague hint of a smile on the man's face — sick bastard — there wasn't anything else to go on.

So he had to abandon that and go back to the doors anyway.

Loki didn't come find him at all, probably tending to his hand if the smell of his blood was anything to go by; strong as it was when linked to Tony's own senses through their bond but he ignored it.

The end of the corridor, just past door 25, was much darker than the rest and — if he was being honest with himself — made him just more than a little wary of going down it. Eventually though, the prospect of freedom was just too good enough of a goal, and he ducked into the shadows; walking through them careful, slow and quiet.

With every step he took, though, he felt as though he were intruding on the dead. As though this place were a cemetery and he and Loki walked over graves all of the time. Maybe they did.

As he passed more and more doors, losing his footing every now and again in the dark, his breathing became labored in the deadly silence from all around him. At least, in the other half of the corridor, he could still hear Loki move around downstairs and could hear the crackle of the candles, the creak of the man swinging in his rope.

Here, though, all he could hear were the sounds that his imagination created for him. Everything else was eerily silent and he ended up flinching at the stupidest things.

He bit his tongue when he fell against the wall and his shoulder came away wet. He wiped at it quickly, spinning around when he thought that he saw someone standing behind him.

Doors mocked him, some looking as though they were open when they weren't, things rolling on the floor when his foot knocked them aside and making him jump a mile in the air, and floorboards creaked so loud they echoed.

Door number 42 had a name.

He could barely make it out, but the glimmer of a plaque was definitely there. Biting back disgust and anything else he might feel, he leant forward to trace the letters with his fingers, praying that there wouldn't be anything too infectious over them. He only just managed to touch the darkest part with the tip of a finger, however, when everything suddenly lit up with electricity. "Jesus — " Another room, different to the one that he'd seen before, whirred to life and he screamed at the sound, leaping back and clapping his hands to his ears.

It only took a second for him to realize what that meant and he looked for the lever here that he must have pressed. But there was nothing. Flashes sparked all around him, wires pulsing, and when he stared at the room that were all coming from, he noticed that the door was wide open. When he knew, for _fact_ , that it had been locked shut as he'd passed it by before.

Shit.

Slowly, refusing to stay frozen with the pure fear that he was now radiating, he began to walk toward it — edging closer before spurring into a run as the noise grew louder and longer, the _zapp_ of electricity almost deafening. He skidded to a halt by the door, holding onto it as it swayed on it's hinges, and he looked past it toward the lighter part of the corridor. Toward where Loki might be. Debating over whether he should or not, or whether he'd get an answer or not, Tony bit his lip and waited for just a minute before giving in and shouting, " _Loki!_ "

There wasn't an answer and when he tried again, nothing much else happened besides the electricity continue to pulse into the room next to him. Taking a deep breath then, he braced himself, clenched his fists tight enough to make the knuckles ache, and took a step around the door.

A padded table was screwed to the wall inside, empty and cleaner than anything when compared to everything else; more wires tangled above it and around the corner, lit up and surging on the electrocution. He followed them, breathing quickly and heavily. Alongside the buzzing, he could hear water as well — a running tap — and when he looked around the crumbling plaster, as slow as he had ever moved in his entire life, he dropped his arms to his side at what he saw.

Loki stood by a dirtied sink, his head low and his hair over his eyes. He was looking at Tony but he wasn't _looking_ at him. Tony stared, his tongue pressed flat and dead on the bottom of his mouth, and his heart thudding nauseatingly fast in his chest as he watched. Loki's bloodied hand was in the water. An electric cable was in the other.

Tony's eyes found the lever, in the same room this time, and saw the voltage. High enough, brutal enough, to kill at least twenty people. Maybe enough to even kill Loki too.

What the fuck was he _doing_?

"Um. ... Loki?"

No answer. Loki's eyes were dull, his mouth thin. Nothing like he'd been before. Tony narrowed his eyes, almost wanting to flee the scene, but something kept him there. This was just Loki, he thought, just Loki trying to scare him. Trying to see if he cared for him like a good little Omega. This was just Loki.

Just Loki —

Loki raised the cable, his injured hand flexing under the water as though it was trying to come up and out. Tony tensed, taking a step forward. "Loki." He kept his voice calm, slow. Cold even, if only to let Loki know that whatever he was trying here _wasn't_ working on him. He wasn't easily fooled. And Loki definitely wasn't going to put that cable in the water. He loved himself too much for that. This was just a ploy; everything spoke that way. "Is this how you deal with rejection, or something?"

Loki shut his eyes. Yep. Definitely a ploy. That was how he'd reacted before, every time Tony hadn't done as expected or asked. Just like he was doing now. "Okay. Well, um. Have fun with that." He didn't turn away though, couldn't make himself, and only compromised with twisting his torso back as though he were about to. Loki still didn't move. Chickened out of going the whole way, maybe. But he still didn't put the cable down. "Will you put that down?" Tony said slowly, ordered really, but Loki didn't even react. "Loki. You're going to poke your eye out." Because that was the biggest worry right now, of course. Loki could even turn that thing on him, if he stayed here any longer. He should leave. "Loki." His voice was shaking. But that was only because of the noise. Just the noise. He just wanted it to turn off, that was all. "Loki!"

Green eyes opened and turned to him. Tony glared. "I'm _talking_ to you here!"

Loki didn't answer. His expression was far too blank to be real, and Tony took another step forward, his glare gradually becoming a frown. "Loki, put it down." Jesus, if he was dealing with a suicide attempt, he'd — no. Loki wouldn't want to go like this. According to Thor, one of Loki's biggest 'fears' was feeling excruciating pain. He'd gotten rather specific about it as well, which had made Tony wonder about the history behind it before he'd then gotten bored with talking about Loki and had distracted the big guy with chess.

Surprisingly, that was one of the things that he missed most. Coming down in the evenings and having a nice game of chess with the God of Thunder. Just another thing that Loki had taken away from him, and yet another reason to not feel sorry for him or show that he was worried. It was what he wanted, after all. But still. His _face_ , it was — " _Loki_."

A spark spluttered beside Tony's head and he moved out of the way, looking away from Loki for just a second, and that second was apparently all that it took. When he looked up again, he bit his tongue hard as Loki plunged the cable into the water, the smell of his pain and blood filling Tony's bonded senses. "What are you _doing_?!" He shouted over the sound of electric buzzing in his shock but he still didn't stop Loki. Still didn't move. Wasn't even sure if he _should_.

Loki's teeth were bared, white against the pallor of his skin and the black of his hair, the flash of blue light covering him completely as his hand shook beneath the water. He was breathing heavily when he lifted the cable again, but then he brought it back down. And this time. He screamed.

Tony's lips parted. Stop it.

"Stop it." He murmured aloud, his eyes wide as he watched him like this. "Loki, _stop_ it." The cable was lifted again. Loki's body jolted as it was brought down and this time, the wires jammed into the skin of his hand. Burnt flesh began to surround the room with it stench and Tony pressed a hand to his mouth before shouting again. " _Stop_ , you cre — !" Loki's yell of pain drowned out his shout, and Tony could only stare as he brought the cable down into the water a third time, his body shaking with the shocks, though he miraculously survived each of them. Tony strode forward quickly, flinching at the sparks flying toward him and barking out a cry when one of them hit. Loki dropped the cable, left it to rock and thrash in the water as his eyes rolled back into his head. "Jesus _Christ_ , you're fucking _crazy_ , you —"

When smoke started to rise from around his hair, and the water turning pink from blood and bubbled from electricity, Tony couldn't stand the buzzing nor the screaming a second longer. He ran forward and grabbed the nearest thing that he could see — a chair. He knew that it wouldn't break, but right now, it didn't need to.

With a groan from it's weight, he swung it around, smashing it into the side of Loki's head _hard_ and lifting it a second time to do the same thing. Only harder. Loki fell back, his head hitting the wall with the shocks still filtering through him helping the blow intensify — enough that it only left him to slump to the ground; unconscious.

Tony slammed the chair over his head a third time just in case, panting so loudly that he could only hear his own breathing over the rushing in his ears. The cable fell from the sink to rattle over the floor and Tony quickly kicked it aside, yanking the lever down and gagging at the smoke that it brought up, from being so overused at such a high voltage.

Loki didn't move from where he lay and Tony stood there, staring down at him. For a second, he didn't know how to react. And then it hit him.

He didn't waste any time and grabbed a tight hold of the cable immediately, pulling it as tight as he could; even walking to the other side of the room until his shoulders strained but, eventually, he could feel the rubber around it's copper wires begin to snap. He fell forward over the wall when it finally broke and took a moment to regain his breath, before he then wrapped it around his torso as best he could. Loki still hadn't moved but Tony wasn't going to risk waiting for signs of him waking up.

He kept the cable around him and bent to lift Loki's legs with both arms. He couldn't carry him, his density as an Asgardian a little too much for him to handle without his suit, so he dragged instead.

Loki's hair spread out behind him as he was pulled, face-down, over the dirtied floor. Oh God, he was so dead if he woke up right now. But, maybe, coupled with the pain in his hand, the electrocution and Tony's blows, he could be knocked out for a while yet. Finally. An advantage.

Tony looked over his shoulder as he went, heaving Loki backward bit-by-bit and panting from the effort. He was less than careful on the stairs, watching as Loki's head thumped down each step and kind of hoping that he'd actually wake-up halfway through and give Tony the reaction that he was imagining. He remained unconscious however, his mouth dropping open when he was slammed down the last step and left there while Tony opened the doors to the, uh — living space? Sitting room? — the room opposite the kitchen.

He couldn't quite lift him onto the sofa, so he sat him up against it instead, using the cable to hold him down. He only had enough for his torso though, so he pushed his arms in as tight as they could fit, and prayed that that would be enough to keep him tied.

Probably not. But it was worth a shot, at least.

And now. He waited.

Sitting back against a chair, Tony regarded Loki carefully. His head had lolled back when Tony had been tying him down, his body trembling with the aftereffects of what he had just put himself through, and his hand was a complete mess. It was half healing already, advanced as Asgardian bodies were, but the skin was still bloody and pealed back in burns, and the electrocution hadn't exactly helped much. Tony slumped back with a sigh.

Every day he spent here, the more he was sure he'd end up insane. A forced bond seemed like the least of his problems right now and he hadn't even been here for that long. Maybe a week, at least. Maybe not even that. He didn't know.

Loki twitched as he lay there, already waking up and Tony froze; watching. And now that he thought about it, what did he do with him? This morning had taught him that trying to hurt Loki when he was asleep didn't work, and he didn't know if that was the same as him being unconscious or not but it probably was. Hurting him when he was _awake_ though, came with the risk of him hurting Tony back for it all afterward. He should have really thought this through but — well. He'd seen the opportunity and he'd taken it.

He stood then, looking around the room, his gaze landing on the little glass cupboard in the corner that he had tried to smash open the second day here. There was a drawer beneath it.

Hm.

 

**_~_ **

****

* * *

****

**_~_ **

 

Loki awoke ten minutes later, dropping his head down from where it lay on the sofa's edge and frowning as he stared down at himself. The cable was tight around his torso and he shifted once before staying where he was. And then he started to chuckle, silently; his shoulders shaking and the grin on his lips the only evidence that that was what he was doing.

"You find an awful lot of things funny." Tony told him, sitting on the chair opposite and leaning down with his hands on his knees.

Loki looked up at him and shrugging, gesturing with his head at his 'bonds', "Well. I'm impressed." And then he took a breath, raising an eyebrow, "But now, what will you do?"

Tony looked over him, unimpressed by the nonchalance. That hand had to hurt, he wasn't fooling him at all. "Ask you some questions."

"Of course. I should have known."

"You know me so well." Tony sneered, sitting back a bit and narrowing his eyes. "So. Question number one: What the hell was that, upstairs?" Loki said nothing. "I mean, I don't really care to know, I'm more into getting out of here, but I'll admit. It freaked me the hell out. So what was it?" Loki's expression didn't change, other than a slight curve to his lips. As though he knew Tony couldn't make him talk. "Fine then. Question number two: how do I open that front door?"

"You can't. Not without my touch."

Yeah right. "How do I open it _without_ letting you go?" Nothing. "I can make you talk you know."

And now, Loki scoffed, stretching in his binds and smiling, "Hm. I doubt that, Stark. There is nothing you could ever do or use in this place that could hurt me. I've ensured it."

Tony glared at him, already knowing that almost everything in this house was barred to his touch. But that was just it.

Almost. Everything.

Tony reached behind him on the chair, and lifted a bottle of the wine that Loki had been drinking before, unscrewing it and emptying about a quarter of it's contents onto Loki's open wound of a hand. The effect was almost painful to watch really but he needed to do this, even if he didn't enjoy it. Loki grit his teeth at the pain, leaning forward with a bitten off shout, "Ah —"

"Really?" Tony asked him, coolly, "Nothing I could do? Nothing at all?" Loki panted from behind his teeth, his blasé attitude now gone. "I figured it out. That drawer over there contains seven bottles. Five of them have been emptied. _Five_." Loki looked away with a sigh before crying out when more wine was poured into his wound, turning back with a growl, "Look at me when I'm talking then."

"Oh, I am very close to making you suffer for this Stark." Yeah. He probably was. Better make this quick, but he couldn't help but show off.

"You'd only drank five bottles of _wine_ and you'd gotten drunk on them. Even if I hadn't met Thor and seen him drink, I'd know that that was impossible for you. So either you'd drank more and hidden the bottles or this wine contained more alcohol than it should." Tony swirled the bottle, contemplatively, "My mind was more than a little fuzzy after drinking just _sip_ of it and remembering that was really all it took. Especially when I know how you can spike things without me even knowing." Loki was breathing slowly, as though getting ready to lash out, "You put pure alcohol into this, didn't you. Took it out when I drank some, but had plenty when you were drinking. Betcha didn't think _that_ would bite you in the ass, did you."

"Are you actually going to use this information or is this only a — " Loki jerked back with a hiss when the wine hit his hand again and Tony planted his foot over it to keep him still, watching as Loki's eyes flashed dangerously, but hey. If anyone was ever going to find his body, at least they'd find him like this and not lying under Loki in some bed.

"Don't interrupt." It was more than a little off-putting when Loki only laughed at his way of asserting control but the wine was running out so he figured he'd leave off for a bit. Let him breathe. "Now." He leant forward, "Tell me how to open that fucking door."

"I have." Loki told him. "You need my touch."

"I'm about two seconds from pouring as much wine as I can into your blood."

"Oh, please do. Pain is nothing I can't handle."

Looking over the telling, reddened tinge to Loki's face, Tony raised an eyebrow with a snort, "Yeah, I can tell."

"Don't presume to know me Stark."

"Why not? You do it to me."

Loki tensed in the bonds for a second and Tony stiffened, bracing the wine in his hands. "But there is a difference with that, isn't there. I _do_ know you." Looking over his body, Tony glared at that fucking smirk, "Very. Thoroughly. In fact." Loki huffed out a laugh at the slap that he received for that, so Tony did it again to shut him up. And again. And again.

When he lifted the bottle to use it for a fifth blow, however, Loki's hand grabbed his wrist before he could, and twisted. At first, that didn't register, but then he heard the snap of the cable and Loki's body rose as he stood, pulling Tony with him. He'd gotten out. Tensing the entire time until he could push out at the right moment and break free. Damn it, he'd done it much quicker than Tony had guessed he could. "Don't be so testy, Stark."

"Get off me."

Loki sighed, put-upon and resigned, and looked down as Tony struggled against him, "The same words, again and again. Do you never tire of it?"

Tony tried to hit him, snarling out, "No, but let me guess. You _do_?" Loki grit his teeth when his injured hand was knocked by Tony's foot but he moved it out of the way before it could happen again and nearly bent Tony over backward when reaching for the wine. Tony pressed his lips shut tight, trying to move his head when the nozzle was pushed against them. "N — "

Loki twisted his wrist again until he had no choice but to open his mouth in a cry, his head aching as he tried to repress it, and then the wine was being poured in. Not nearly enough to kill him, of course, but definitely enough _pure alcohol_ to make him feel it. Not diluted this time. As heavy as it had been when Loki had been drinking it himself.

"Ah — " He gagged when his jaw was let go and the bottle rolled under the sofa after it was released, the rest of the wine spilling out over the carpet. Loki kept him bent back, holding him close as he succumbed to the effects of the drink, "You — you fucking — " He choked, the taste burning the back of his throat in it's intensity.

Loki hushed him, his face almost tender were it not so clinical as well. Tony opened his mouth to insult him, to ask to be let go, to shout anything at all, but his lips wouldn't move properly and Loki's index finger successfully silenced him simply by being placed over them softly. "Sh." His eyes drooped and he was really getting sick of being put to sleep like this, sick of this all.

"Do — "

"Sh. Allow it. Sleep."

"No —"

He'd been getting somewhere. He'd _hurt_ him. Why —

"That's it." Tony keened, swooning in Loki's arms and shutting his eyes as they caught him. He was still awake, only woozy, but Loki lifted him anyway. "Sleep."

"Lemme — lemme go ... " Back up the stairs. Back to that room. All this for nothing, why the _fuck_ was he even bothering. He was never going to get out of here.

"You know my answer already, Stark. Just sleep."

Never.

 

 ____

 

 

Tony's head was splitting when he woke up next and he whimpered into pillows, his shoulders shaking at the pain. Loki wasn't in the room but a glass of water was. He wanted to throw it, to swear as loudly as he could at what he thought of it being there, but he was too thirsty to bother with anger and just gulped it down quickly. As far as hangovers went though, this wasn't so bad, and he had a feeling that Loki was behind that somehow. Just as he was behind the alcohol taking such a quick effect on him.

He groaned over the mattress, sitting up and tugging viciously at his hair to let out his frustration over everything. He'd had him _tied_. He'd _had_ him. He'd hurt him. He could have —

No. Even if he hadn't wanted to show off, he'd already known Loki wouldn't have talked. Deep down, it had just been a power-play. A way of him letting Loki know that he wouldn't come quietly. He fell back against fur. So much for that.

"Ugh." He shut his eyes with a moan and rubbed at his face. "God. Just get me out of this place." Before he goes crazy. Before he ended up like Loki; standing over a sink and electrocuting himself. He still didn't know what that had —

Oh who cared. Right now, his headache was more important and the bed was too tempting. It only took him about a minute to fall asleep again.

 

 

____

 

 

When he woke up next, he felt much better but his body was unfortunately now fully awake after his heat. He bolted out from under the blankets when the cramping in his stomach got a lot worse and tried to recall where Loki had said the —

Oh yeah. Room within the room beside 'his'. He found it easily enough and tried hard not to think about the blood that Loki that had said had been in here before, whilst he relieved himself. There was a shower as well, he noticed, and though he kind of wanted one, he didn't think that it would be the best idea right now.

This house put him off doing a lot of things, really.

When he washed his hands however, he caught sight of another mirror, and in the cracked reflection he saw dirt marks, scratches and dried blood all over his skin and he grimaced.

On seconds thoughts.

Stepping into the shower was harder than he thought it would be. At first, he checked over everything; made sure there wouldn't be any nasty surprises for him — like a fucking corpse — suddenly falling when he was cleaning himself. But it was all fine.

Then, when he carefully stepped over the tub and under the nozzle, it took him about half an hour to figure out how to turn the damn thing on. Half an hour where he almost froze with how cold this bathroom was, compared to the rest of the house.

There was nothing tortuous in here, though, nothing out of place so he assumed that it was all for the workers instead of their victims. Safe to use then, hopefully. Eventually, he figured out how to turn it on, and ice-cold water cascaded over his back. He hissed and lurched backward, out of the spray, reaching out a hand to wait for it to warm up. _Hoping_ that it warmed up, at least.

It did, after a while, and he ducked under it — shivering and with his arms wrapped around himself — to soak it all in. He refused to shut his eyes or to use any lotions or soap left here, and stuck with only using the water to wash the grim and blood off of him.

That was when he then realized that he had no idea how he was going to get dry. Great.

He finished up quickly, hating the cold of the room and the regularity of what he was doing, and shivered as he stepped out of the tub and left the room. Carpet stuck to his wet toes as he walked and his hair turned to ice by the time he went inside his room. It dripped water down his back and made him cringe, but curling under the blankets made him feel much better — and warmer — and helped with the headache that he still mildly had going on in his forehead.

He felt cleaner too, better. More human and less prisoner. The lulling warmth that the blankets gave him after the cold of the bathroom was welcome enough too and he tried to expel everything that had happened before to at least try and sleep a little restfully. Besides, Loki wasn't here, and for once he wasn't going to take advantage of that by looking through the doors, but by trying to get some rest instead.

God knew he'd need it. 

 

**_~_ **

****

* * *

****

**_~_ **

 

He was hot when he woke up, again, and for a second, he thought that that meant that Loki was back and in his bed again, but lifting his head just an inch told him that he was alone. He lowered his head again, biting his lip at the fact that he was freaking out over all of this, and that was when he felt the hand on his shoulder gently push.

Still slightly hazy with sleep, he didn't even freeze and instead shifted around until he could turn and look over his shoulder. Of course he wasn't alone, who was he kidding.

Candles had been blown out again, leaving only a few, so for a second all he could see was a bulk of a shadow standing in the room and looking down at him. He frowned, then, staring. Not recognising that shadow to be Loki.

Heart clenching as fear finally caught up he tried to guess at three things that it could be when —

"Anthony?"

His stomach turned to ice, melting into relief instantaneously when he realized just who it was standing there. Oh God. "Thor?" He breathed, his eyes wide. Hopeful. "Oh God. _Thor_."

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any typos D: 
> 
> Promise the house isn't haunted, explanations will come in time :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry for the long wait, I am a terrible person D:

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* * *

.

Tony sat up quickly, the blanket sliding off of his body until he remembered that he was completely naked; grabbing at it again and bunching it under his chin, "What - _how_ \- ?" Thor's eyes trailed over him softly, sitting on the edge of the bed with enough weight that it actually made Tony bounce off the pillows, "Thor? Is it - are you real? Is this _you_?" Thor looked at him, wounded and so sorrowful it hurt to look at him. "Because seriously, my mind's getting fucked over in this place, and I - so please. Tell me if it's you. I can't, I - " Arms suddenly enveloped him and he was pulled into Thor's chest, "Oh." Hugged so tightly that he almost couldn't breathe, but he could still whisper, "Thor."

He could hear him breathing, could hear his heartbeat, and he knew.

He _knew_.

He was real.

"Anthony. I am so sorry." Tony sucked in a short breath at that, shutting his eyes and hugging Thor back. One of the first hugs that he'd actually ever had in five years, and maybe _that_ was why he could feel his throat closing up a little with emotion, "My brother - "

"Is not your responsibility." What the hell was he talking about? Of course Loki was Thor's responsibility. He'd told him plenty of times before, had argued about it a lot of times too, but for some reason none of that mattered right now. And all he wanted was to really _not_ argue about semantics and bonds like he usually did and just relax into the first kind touch that he'd had in a long time.

Thor's hand palmed over the back of his head, holding him in place and rocking them a little, before he suddenly pulled away, "I do not have much time."

Tony blinked, sitting back, staring at him, "What do you mean?"

"Loki - " Thor sighed, looking down. Tony reached across and grabbed his arm, forcing him to look up at him. Telling him through his eyes to explain.

"How did you find me?"

Another sigh. Full of guilt this time and Tony's stomach clenched. "I have been here for many days, already."

Oh. Well, that was a punch in the gut. Tony swallowed, looking away for just a second, and when he spoke he didn't think his voice had ever been smaller, "Come again?"

Thor looked at him, earnestly, "I have known where you were for days." He repeated, "But I could not enter here. Not without my brother's permission, and not with his magic boarding it from all touch."

"Then - how are you here _now_?" He didn't get an answer, "Thor? Talk to me here, you're the first contact I've _had_ from everyone else, don't you dare leave me stranded." Okay anger. Anger was good.

Better than almost crying anyway.

Thor seemed willing to take it though, and that didn't really help, "My brother knew I was here." He then explained, bitterly, "I made a deal with him."

Tony's gaze darted over his face, expectant, "What kind of deal."

"You are right to hate me."

"Why?" This didn't sound good. This was -  "Thor? What did you do?"

"He would not allow me to see you. Nothing I did convinced him. But then. He came to me instead."

So. While Tony had been put to sleep, Loki had healed himself and gone to find his brother. But why? It made a lot more sense for him to think of a way to punish Tony for what he'd done, tying him up and pouring _pure alcohol_ onto his open wound.

"And he made a deal with me. I could see you," Thor continued, his eyes dark in the shadows from flickering candles, "On the condition that I leave and not return."

No.

_You are right to hate me._

Oh God.

Tony chewed on the inside of his cheeks, running a hand through his hair and tugging at it, hard, "And you - " He exhaled slowly to calm himself down, "You took the _deal_? You - "

Thor sat closer, cupping Tony's face with one hand, "He told me nothing of you. I did not know if you were alive, or faint, or even happy - " Tony glanced at him sharply, and he looked away, "I needed to see."

His hand dropped when Tony jerked his head back, "You _needed_ to see? You needed - ?" He pushed himself back against the pillows, "God, Thor, you could have gotten _help_! You could have told people where I was! Your father, maybe, or the Omega-O-O-O! _Anyone_ that could have gotten me out of here!"

"I did not know if you _wished_ to leave."

"Are you fucking stupid?! Where in your head does it make sense that I would want to be your psycho brother's _Omega_?"

"On Asgard, we were taught that an Omega's first instinct is pleasure. If Loki had given you enough, then you would only have ever wanted to - "

Tony slapped him.

A little surprised at himself for doing so, as well - he'd been going more for a punch - but it happened. And fuck him, it felt _good_. To hurt something. Hurt _someone_ , like this.

Someone that wasn't him.

"Don't. _Ever_ assume things like that about me again. I worked too damn hard to get rid of that view and I don't need some - _alien_ prince bringing it back on me." With Loki doing it all the time, he really didn't want his brother fucking agreeing about his goddamn ' _place_ '. Omega or no.

Thor swallowed tightly, the shock on his face slowly melting into submission. He nodded. "Understood."

"Good." Tony answered, a little shaky now that the intensity of the fury he'd had, had ebbed away, "Sorry." He then added, lightly.

"No. You are right." Tony bit his tongue, fighting any retorts back, because now really wasn't the time, "Asgard is not Earth. I should never have abandoned you here." He ran a hand down his beard, "I am a fool."

"Yeah. You are." Tony agreed softly, and he swallowed, "But it's really good to see you. And I mean, _really_. How long have you got?"

"A little while longer, only, he said." It must kill to be taking orders like that. He could see it in Thor's eyes, could see how much he wanted to help him, and it was mostly because of that that he didn't hate him as much as he did Loki right now.

"Then can - wait." Hang on. Thinking back on the conversation, Tony paused, remembering. What had he said? "You - " He stopped.

"What?"

"You said that you were taught on Asgard about Omega's." He frowned, looking at him, "But Loki said that there _were_ no Omegas there."

Thor frowned back, but for a completely different reason, "He _speaks_ to you?" At Tony's look he clearly realised what he'd said wrong and a flush of shame spread over his bulge of a neck, "I apologize."

"Don't, okay. Just answer the question. Are there, or are there not Omega's where you come from?"

Thor pinched at the bridge of his nose, glancing at the door as though expecting Loki to be waiting there. It was open though, and there weren't any silhouettes hidden in the shadows as far as either of them could tell, "There were, yes. Once. Years before either Loki or I were born."

 _Born_. Someone should have just clobbered the guy the moment he'd opened his mouth in a wail.

"What happened to them?"

"Their Alphas happened." Oh. Oh Jesus.

Nothing more really needed to be said and Tony hunched over himself, as though in pain for the Omega's long lost already, but mostly just in the disgust that he felt at that revelation. "Our history is not all pleasant, Anthony."

"Yeah, no one's ever is." The blanket slipped again but this time, Tony just left it there.

Thor looked over him, his jaw clenched, "He does not permit you clothes?"

"What the hell did you _think_ , Thor?" Tony spat, angry at him again. Angry at this all. "What, that we were having fucking tea parties every night?"

"There is no - "

"I was in _heat_ when he took me, okay. You know what that means, right, or is your Omega knowledge still so out-dated that pleasure is all that really matters?" Putting his head in his hands, he took in a few, slow breaths, "Look. Forget it, just forget it, you're not here to be _educated_ , you can ask your girlfriend or JARVIS when you go back to the tower." Because _he_ had that luxury. "I just - how is everyone? I mean, is everything _okay_?" Thor looked confused, but maybe that was just because of Tony's irritability and mood swings, "Loki owns everything I do." He grit his teeth. " _Did_ , I mean. And to an extent, that includes the Avengers too. So what's he been doing with it all? Is everything okay?"

And now, he understood. "Your company still stands. Loki did not truly wish to have it, but still - Lady Pepper did all she could to legally claim her own rights to it. She still fights, but I have been told that she is winning." Tony smiled at that.

"Good." That was his Pepper, alright. Always fighting tooth and nail. "But what about you guys? And the world? What's going on out there?"

Thor opened his mouth to answer before they both turned to the door at a creak. "Time's up." Loki stood in it's threshold, his eyes on his brother.

No. No no, not yet. "Wait." He found himself saying, and when Loki glanced at him he was then all too aware of how thin the ice he was standing on was. "Just - a little more time. Please." He should have started with these questions in the first place, God, he was so _stupid_.

"Thor knew he had limited time." Loki answered, folding his arms across his chest, "And he _knows_ not to break deals with me."

"You have made your point Loki. I will leave." Thor stood, glaring over at him.

"Good." Loki smirked, "Get out then. We wouldn't want _Anthony's_ emotion to bleed onto you too, would we. How would you forgive yourself?"

Bile rose into Tony's throat at that low blow, and he watched as Thor's hands clenched furiously. For a second, he generally believed that he would actually flip out and fight him. But that was what probably Loki wanted. Just an excuse to wage war on the Avengers, and be seen to be on the _right_ side of it.

Fighting over a claimed Omega - Thor would be an outcast in a heartbeat.

Reaching over quickly, Tony grabbed at his 'Hammer' hand - or so he'd dubbed it in what seemed like a lifetime ago - and shook his head urgently. And maybe his schooling and pheromones really did work, because Thor relaxed and nodded at him; reaching back to clasp at Tony's bicep.

"None of us have abandoned you, Anthony." He murmured, "Have faith." He then pulled Tony forward, into another hug, and this time something pricked in the back of his eyes. Loki's gaze was dark when Tony met it over Thor's shoulder, however, but he looked away, resolutely ignoring it, "This is not goodbye."

Tony nodded, pulling back, "Better not be, big guy." He sat back, only noticing then that there was a bowl of soup on the floor in the corner - still steaming. Thor scooped it up as he passed, placing it on the end of the bed, before finally turning to leave. Loki moved aside to let him pass, still looking at Tony with a glare.

"This is wrong, Loki." Thor growled at him, his hands clenched again - the knuckles cracking at the same time as Tony's shoulders tensed, "Wronger than anything you have done yet." He leant closer, his lips by Loki's ear as he threatened, "And it will _not_ be forgiven."

Facing him now, leading Thor to move back, Loki raised an eyebrow, "Whatever gave you the idea that I crave _your_ forgiveness?" Thor didn't rise to the bait, for once, and instead just continued to walk out. His footsteps could be heard throughout the house as he made his way downstairs and to the foyer and Tony listened to them all.

Loki left then as well, presumably to make sure that Thor actually went, and Tony quickly grabbed the blanket before the door could shut - ignoring the bowl as it toppled off of the bed - and wrapping himself in it; running down the now-lit stairs just in time to catch a glimpse of the front doors shutting.

He could see _sunlight_ , could see stone steps leading down, could see Thor glance back at him just one more time before everything was locked up with a resounding bang.

"He hates you now."

Loki's hand skimmed over the wood instead of answering, curling over the statues and carvings and he laid his head against it; probably placing his magic through it all again.

"And he's not the only one." Still on the second or last step, Tony shuffled back up them slowly before turning and walking back into the room he'd left.

He didn't miss Loki's look when he watched him go.

 

**_~_ **

 

* * *

 

**_~_ **

 

Back in the room, he almost broke his hand when ramming his fist into the nearest bed post, falling to his knees with a cry and cradling it to his chest. Anger seemed to completely consume him and he screamed into his aching hands, frustrated that he didn't have a lab that he could always go downstairs into and tinker around until his anger had turned into creation.

Seeing Thor had made all of this, this _loss_ , so much harder now. He remembered the life that he'd actually had before and he couldn't just shove it to the back of his mind. Not now.

And it - It _stung_ remembering just how much had been taken from him. He'd had so much. He'd had friends, a life, money and fame and a good shot of adrenaline every now-and-again too. He'd been making a _difference_. And now what was he.

Some freak's _bed-warmer_.

"I'm not dying like this." He stood up, kicking aside the still-hot bowl of soup - magically intact as usual - and heading for the door.

There was a way out of here.

There had to be, and he was going to fucking find it. He needed to. He was _not_ dying like this and be damned if a few corpses scare him, this is the only way to figure it all out.

He pulled open the door, his head down so when he walked into something he actually bit down on his lip in surprise. Loki stood in the doorway again, just like he had been before. Solid as rock and stone faced. Tony jumped backward, aware of the deja vu that was suddenly filling his mind. "What?" He asked, when Loki said nothing and just continued to stand there. Blank-faced and creepy. Was this his punishment now? "Uh, you're the one who let him in, so be mad at yourself."

"What did you tell him?" Loki asked then - after a long moment of silence - and when he took a step inside, Tony took one back.

"Tell him? ... About what?" Still walking backward, the backs of his knees touched the edge of the bed, and he stopped.

"About this house?" There was something funny in his tone. Something strange. "What. Did you tell him?"

"Nothing." Tony frowned, trying to walk around him - "Why would I want to talk about the house?" - when his wrist was grabbed and he was thrown down onto the blankets, "Ah - " He bounced, trying to get back up, before Loki was then on him; holding him in place. No, no, not again! "I - what would I even _tell_ him? There's not exactly - "

"You _will_ tell me, Stark. Now."

" _What_?" This was insane.

"Tell me."

"D - Tell you _what_?"

"Don't you dare try my patience."

"Then make some _sense_ for on - "

Loki drove his hands into the mattress and springs panged beneath Tony's back as they broke, " _TELL ME_!"

Tony froze, staring up at him as Loki's arms bracketed his head, leaning over him and panting heavily.

His shout echoed all over the house.

"I - "

"So help me Stark, you will _tell me_ \- "

Recovering from the brief flash of fear that he'd felt, Tony struggled to get out from under him, "You're fucking _mental_ do you - " His jaw was grabbed and he shut his eyes at the pain of his teeth clacking together, "I didn't say anything about the house! I just wanted to know if everyone was _okay_ , alright? Look, just - get off of me - !"

Loki's hand moved from his jaw to pin both his wrists down, his shirt rumpled as he leant over him - his jacket probably on the floor somewhere downstairs, if those ripped buttons were any indication. "This is _why_." He then growled, lost in his own anger, and Tony shivered under him - more afraid for himself now than he ever had been, if he was truthful. Loki's voice was dark, echoing. He sounded more like a monster than ever. 

"This is why I keep us alone. Here. But he just. Wouldn't _leave_. He followed me everywhere I went, tried to enter every other day. And _you_ \- you leaking your smell everywhere, your fear and your _pain_. Don't you know? Do you not know how you _feel_ to us? This house is full of it, _Thor_ could even _taste_ it, and your own scent is - " He paused, then, suddenly aware that Tony was only half listening, no longer struggling, and instead staring up at him in shock, " _What_?" He snarled, baring his teeth.

Tony swallowed, his throat closed so he had no choice but to whisper, "Your eyes have turned red."

Loki went completely rigid above him.

He could _feel_ it himself as he continued to stare up at him. His eyes, usually a burning green were now blisteringly hot with red, and a blue tinge was spreading over his bared collarbone. Loki glanced down at his hands, swallowing with obvious difficulty, and his lips were still drawn back as though he didn't know how to react.

"I - " And just like that he was gone.

Tony lay there on his back, breathing in a mixture of short bursts and slow inhales, and with no Loki there anymore he stared up at the ceiling instead. The eyes of statues stared back at him so he turned away, looking at himself in the mirror; numb from what had just happened.

Loki's words echoed through him.

How he _felt_? What did that have to do with anything? And where had all that anger come from?

It was - Omega's have scents, yes, but they vanish after a heat. Didn't they? That was what he'd always been told and _taught,_ at least. 'An Omega was most desirable and weak when in heat'. It was mostly why he'd been so careful with his tablets. What did emotion have to do with anything?

He sat up slowly, the echo of Loki's footsteps still reverberating through his skull even though he was probably long gone right now. Freaking out himself over whatever the hell _that_ had been.

Red eyes and blue skin.

What else was going to be thrown at him around here? Would the fucking statues come to life? He remembered the snake mould downstairs, and sincerely hoped not. And that was when he realised one crucial thing.

He hadn't actually heard the front door shut.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter because I wanted to get that cliffhanger in, but a new one is on the way already ;)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: Violence. Torture. But no rape.**

.

* * *

 

Tony was up and out of the bed within a _second_ , and he raced downstairs - his bare-feet completely silent over the carpeted floor, which never ceased to unnerve him.

And there it was. The door.

 _Completely._ Ajar.

He almost rubbed at his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

The door - the _open_ door - swung back in a breeze from outside, though, so he quickly ran forward to grab at the handle, tugging it back open, and breathing in _air_ that wasn't so dust-filled and compressed. Neither of the other doors were open, only the front, so Loki must have left. And whatever had happened to him had led him to forget to lock it.

Unless. Unless this was a trick.

Swallowing, Tony shivered in the cold, the warmth from the carpet helping his feet but not being much use against the wind sliding over his naked body. Loki's jacket was on the floor, torn in the corner from how fast he'd taken it off. Angry, then, at whatever he'd thought Tony had told Thor, and he still didn't understand that.

What _could_ he have said, anyway? Hey, Thor, did you know that this used to be an Omega experimentation facility and that there's a bunch of dead bodies everywhere? Yeah, me neither, at first, but it seems your brother's into that stuff.

Jesus.

The door swung back again, knocking him further outside, and he quickly turned, keeping it propped open with his foot to grab the jacket under one arm before stepping outside and letting it slam shut behind him.

"Okay." He was outside. He was _out_ of that fucking house.

Finally.

He didn't waste any time at all. Running down the steps, his feet slapping against the stone painfully and loudly, he watched out for anything sharp that could harm them as he yanked the jacket on and wrapped his arms around it to keep it shut. It was long enough to completely cover him - all the way to his knees at least - and it was _warm_. That was what mattered mostly, right now, and it helped a lot more than his own jackets used to.

Outside, it was dim, despite probably being morning at least, but he couldn't exactly trust his body clock anymore. Not with how often he'd been unconscious recently, and with heat always screwing everything over too.

Fog covered everything before him as well, though, so all he could really see was the next step. Maybe it was just because the house was very high up, but for some reason the fog freaked him out. Every breath of his came out in mist and he hugged himself as the cold increased - almost winter-like. _Was_ it winter? He couldn't even remember, not much of a winter person in the first place.

Looking back, behind him, when he was far enough - in his opinion - the house loomed over him like some dark shadow on his tail.

It was big, much bigger than he had imagined it to be and darker than anything. Almost black, in colour. The windows were boarded up too, so he'd been right about the view being Loki's magic, and half of the building seemed to disappear off into the hill. Underground most likely. He dread to think over what had gone on _there_.

But he wouldn't worry about that right now.

Tugging the collar up, he turned his back on it and continued down the steps, wary and watchful should Loki suddenly appear, as well. When he almost reached the end, however, his foot slipped over wet stone and he slipped down the last seven of them, landing hard on his hip and cutting open his hand on a piece of jagged rock. He hissed at the pain, standing back up with effort and holding his bleeding hand inside of the jacket.

It must have fur inside it, or something, because it was so gloriously hot. He only wished that it could cover _every_ part of him; his legs were like ice.

Now at the bottom, the fog had dissipated slightly, revealing rows of little huts and bars before him. A pub, it looked like too. Huh. He walked through the path that was stuck in the middle of them all, well aware that most of them looked completely empty. Shut down and falling apart.

A ghost town, then. Perfect.

" _Hello_?" His voice echoed, and he shivered at the wind again, looking everywhere and anywhere for a glimpse of someone, anyone, "Thor?" A sign creaked beside him and he squinted into the hut that it belonged to. An inn. "Is ... there anyone here at all?" Again. _His_ voice was the only one that returned to him. "I'm looking for a big blond guy. He's got a cape, a red one, and he ... flies around with a hammer? You can't miss him."

He waited.

Nothing.

Sighing, he ducked into the Inn instead, hoping that there was at least a phone that he could use. It _stank_ inside, though, of rotten fish and stale beer and he gagged, holding a sleeve over his nose as he clambered over the counter to try and find an office of some sort. A door was open right behind it, and an old-fashioned cable phone lay on a dust covered table inside. He lifted the receiver.

Dead.

For God's sake. Slamming it back down, he grit his teeth and sat against the table, "Fuck." Okay. This wasn't an issue, it wasn't. If he could find the actual wires hidden in the wall, he could maybe get it work by using the -

"Next time, _I_ go." Tony froze.

Voices echoed through the town suddenly, a group of them chatting, and his heart leapt with hope before he recognized their smell. _Alphas_. Every one of them.

Sliding off of the table, he quickly crouched down with his back against the wall, his head just touching the window sill above him and in the light from the blocked sun, he saw shadows slide past him.

They were laughing, discussing some trip that they'd just been on. Another town maybe? There was still something he could do then. He just had to wait. And if there was another town, and they'd had to make a trip to it, then that would probably mean the town was better equipped. Probably had phones that worked, too. Listening closer, he hoped they'd mention how far it was, before -

"Wait. Guys, wait. Hang on a second." The shadows came back, hovering just above the window, and he pressed the coat closer to his body to cover his scent, especially when he heard the sound of hands pressing against glass. "... you smell that?"

Shit.

"Smell what?"

Tony leant a little further back, hoping that the top of his head would be covered now, should they decide to peer a little further in. But then - why _not_ show himself? Not all Alpha's were abusive, not all conformed purely toward their instincts, it was the modern world for God's sake. The 21st century, what was he so afraid of?

Well. Sure, it was still probably a bad idea to be completely alone and half-naked with a bunch of strange Alphas, but did he really have a choice? It was either _that_ , or let Loki find him again. And besides, he was _Tony Stark_. Money always seemed to buy anyone's nice side. 

He could even get their help any other way as well, he was good at that. He _could_.

And yet, even with his own mental justification of why he could definitely stand up and show himself, his legs just wouldn't seem to move. Not to mention the fact that his heart was beating fast enough that he was sure one of them would be able to hear it any second now. And then he wouldn't even have to _physically_ show himself.

God, his time with Loki had made him fucking _paranoid_ ; his instincts were on haywire.

"Nothing." The first finally muttered, after a long pause that had Tony crouched and teetering on the balls of his feet. Conflicted between what he should do. "Let's go." He heard them walk away, heard a door shut not far from where he was and then their laughter built up again. Right. Standing, Tony stretched his legs, holding the coat still so tightly, and stepping around the desk to clamber back over the counter. 

If he could overhear their conversation without them noticing then maybe he coul -

A hand clapped over his mouth, dragging him backward through an open door, and he yelled behind it - "Jes - !" - jamming his elbow back automatically to try and get away, and with a groan, the hand dropped him and he was released. But not before he'd actually been pulled into another room. A much darker one; full of shadows and with one flickering lamp that revealed every particle of dust inside. Spinning around, he held his fists up, ready to fight whoever it was, before freezing when he saw his attacker.

An elderly lady stood hunched opposite him, her arms around her stomach where his elbow had probably struck, and she wheezed terribly with pain. Oops. "Uh." He paused, unsure of what to do or say now, but he still backed away, just in case. She may look old, but she had _dragged_ him so she was probably still a little strong. From the smell of her, she was an Alpha too. How many were there, here. Was it a little get-together, or something? People visiting the town that they had used to live in before it had all gone to shit?

"You shouldn't be here." She finally rasped and the heavy accent of her voice - similar to the Alpha's from before, now that he thought about it - immediately told Tony that he probably wasn't anywhere near New York anymore.

"Oh trust me, I don't want to be." He muttered, grabbing at the coat when he realized it had opened, and glaring at her, "You're the one who dragged me in, in the first place." She opened her mouth but he spoke over her, "But now that we're both so friendly, can you tell me how far the nearest _living_ town is? So I _can_ actually go?"

"You're an Omega." She told Tony, urgently. Like he didn't even know that already, "You have to _go_. You can't be here." Okay. Tony paused, looking at her. There was something about her tone, something about the way she was looking at the window, constantly, that told him that he was really missing something major here. " _Go_."

Snapping now, he glared, "Go _where_? If you tell me where the nearest town is then I'll leave, okay, but I - "

Her bony hand grabbed him by the wrist and she yanked the blinds down just as she shoved him out of the lamp's light. A shadow passed by and he forced himself not to tug his arm back or to make any other sound, because there was clearly something going on here. The shadow didn't return and she stared up at him, letting go of his wrist, "You'll have to run. There isn't another town for ten miles, but if you get away from this one, you will be safe."

 _Safe_? "What the hell kind of place is this?"

Looking at him like he was the dumbest person in the world - not exactly something he was used to, really - she gestured to the window, "Did you _miss_ that house, when sight-seeing here?" Ignoring her sarcasm he processed the words immediately, and his blood literally ran cold. Literally, Victorian Gothic style.

Okay. Got it. Running away now.

She opened another door and suggested that he leave through it, duck down until he got to the edge of the town and then make a run for it before anyone saw him. He looked out at the cold and the fog and the roads that seemed to lead nowhere and wished desperately that there had been a phone around here that he could have just used. But instead, he got murderous Alpha's. Wonderful.

"Thank you." He murmured to her before he slipped past the broken door frame and headed out. He could feel her gaze on him as he walked; a nervous, prickly sensation, and he hated that that _paranoia_ he now had was telling him not to trust her.

Instinctual or not, he went with it anyway.

 

* * *

 

Okay, so she had said to travel to the end of the town and make a run for it. So if he was going with his instincts and _not_ trusting her, then what could he expect? An Alpha ambush waiting? More of them arriving at the same time as he made a 'run for it' and catching him anyway? Maybe they were all working for Loki, to keep him put.

He didn't know. But he wasn't going to risk following her advice.

Besides, it looked like it was almost night as well, and there was no way he was traveling through all _that_ in the dark. Death from exposure was not a way he wanted to go.

So the Inn wasn't empty, that he now knew. The pub didn't seem to be either, judging from the laughter inside it when he leant against the wall, and everything else was either non-habitable or completely locked down.

Although. A library just a little way down from the pub seemed to be okay. It didn't look safe from the outside but when he snuck under broken panels and slipped into the main room, it wasn't actually that bad. The structure was circular which had prevented most of the roof from caving in on the downstairs of the shelves, though the top floor was completely gone. It was mostly rot, that had caused this, he noticed idly.

He yanked books out of the way when a panel helped pile them, and then curled up beneath it, wrapping the coat in a way that let him cover his legs too, if he curled in tight enough. The panel was sturdy too, and he gave it a kick to make sure that it wouldn't fall in on him in his sleep, before piling the books back up beside him to give him a great view of the entrance and yet, still, hide him perfectly as well.

Great.

Not the best place to sleep in, though, but he'd make do. He was a little comfortable, at least. And safe. Safe was good.

As the sun gradually began to set, shadows danced over the walls. Book covers that had burnt and gaping holes created monsters within them. Rolling over, he peered through his pile to stare at the entrance; the images of what had happened to those Omegas in the house choosing now to flicker though his mind. And then he came back to Loki.

Had he realized Tony had gone yet? Was he looking for him? Why had he turned blue? And also, why could so many people _smell_ _him_ so easily? Why had that lady warned him, and why the fuck didn't he trust her? What was making him so paranoid?

It couldn't just be Loki. Could it?

Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe it -

A door creaked above him and he froze, ducking down and looking at the shadows to watch for any sudden movements. Nothing much happened for another while, though, and he relaxed. So fucking terrified, he hated himself for being like this. Close to hyperventilating over a freaking door in a breeze.

It creaked again a few minutes later, but this time, he ignored it, and snuggled further into the coat; trying to get a little sleep. There wasn't another sound after that anyway, and he began to feel the first inklings of sleep start to take over, the exhaustion of everything that had happened in just _one_ day seeping through him. And he was fine now.

Safe.

At least. He was until he saw a flicker of something move in the corner of his eye. Something too dark and too fast to be the cause of the still setting sun. Sitting up slowly, and silently, he held his breath, looking through the gap in the books to try and see what that had been. His mind told him that it was Loki, but his body's instincts ignored that and went by smell instead. And right now, he would rather go by instinct actually, it seemed to be doing him right so far - stronger now that he was bonded, though he point blank _refused_ to think too much about that.

The air was completely still in the library as he darted his gaze everywhere, his breath creating smoke before him and making his hiding place obvious but the sleeve of the coat smothered it well enough. Another flicker and he figured out what it was then.

A torch.

_Dammit._

" - I did. I told him to run." Floorboards creaked and he swallowed hard when he realized that they were on the floor above him. It was unstable, he could tell just by hearing, but they were at least being careful. And they were looking for _him._ "He should have been there, you must have missed him." The old lady. _Bitch._

Well done instincts, getting it right.

"Missed an _Omega_? What are you fucking _senile?_ He's obviously still here somewhere."

The torch shone nearer, almost catching him within it's shadows, and he shuffled back quickly - wincing when his foot dislodged the panel and shook it. There was a breeze behind him then, tickling over the back of his neck, and he hunched, looking over his shoulder to see a gap through the wall. Too small for him to fit through, but maybe -

Picking up a light shard of rubble, he threw it through the gap, aiming for the edge of the hut that he could see opposite. It rattled when it hit the wood, rolling out of view and it did it job wonderfully too.

"Got him." The torch moved, and dust fell in showers as they ran across the floor above him. He heard laughter. A whoop even, as well. "Tell Henry he's getting lucky tonight!"

Their voices faded, muffling as they entered the hut he'd led them to. Gone. Slumping against the wall, Tony bit down on his lip and shut his eyes. His heart was still beating so fast inside his chest, that he could actually hear it past the rushing in his ears.

What would they want with him, anyway? Was this all Loki's idea? Choosing the one place in the world that Tony would have no way out of?

Well, fuck him. And fuck them all as well.

He was getting out of here, and he was getting out of here _alive_. There had to be a phone that worked. If these Alpha's still lived here then _somethin_ _g_ had to work, right?

When morning finally came, the first thing he was going to do was look for the mail room. If this was one of those oldie towns, then there was a high possibility that there would be one. And mail rooms always had phones, and if they didn't, then they must have a Morse code machine instead. He was a little rusty with that, but he could get a message out. And he knew for a fact that Steve could translate it easily, better than Natasha even; he'd boasted about it more than enough times, anyway.

Opening his eyes again, he listened out for the Alphas again, trying to pinpoint where they could have gone to next when they'd found the hut empty, but he couldn't hear them at all now. Their smell was still strong though, particularly one of theirs. Too strong, now that he thought about it, and now that he really _sensed_ it. It was - well. _Strong_ enough to be right -

Fuck.

Snapping his head to the side at the sound of fabric ripping, he came face to face with one of them, and he barely had time to react before he was smiled at, "Hello there." Great. Darting back quickly, Tony lashed out, catching the guy in the ribs before clambering out of the hole that he had hid himself in. His legs were grabbed immediately, however, and he was dragged backward; clawing uselessly at anything within reach.

"Get off!" He kicked out, grabbing rubble and throwing it, and he almost managed to get away a second time before another of them came behind him - kicking in the gap in the wall that Tony had found before and grabbing him by the neck in a headlock. Cloth was pressed and held over his mouth, chemicals wafting into his nose despite his fighting back, and he kept his lips pressed shut, jerking in their hold even as he weakened from whatever they were making him inhale.

"You sent us on a run, huh." His vision blurred, but he could see their smiles. Couldn't see anything _but_ , "Thought you got away?" Leaning in for a sniff, the Alpha behind him chuckled, "I'd be able to smell _that_ for miles."

Fuck you.

Tony pawed at his chest, trying to punch or strike back, but his eyes were drooping and their weight on him was becoming crushing. Blurred vision became spotted with black, "Come on Stark. Just let it go."

So they did know who he was.

Well wasn't that -

\- fucking -

 _\- comforting_ -

 

**_~_ **

 

* * *

 

**_~_ **

 

The coat was gone when he woke up. 

That was the first thing he noticed - that the warmth was gone, and that he was now completely naked. The second thing that clicked was that his hands were chained together, and were bunched under his head, high enough that trying to move them strained at his shoulders and almost dislocated them. He didn't bother struggling properly, though - not at first. He couldn't even muster the strength to anyhow, and all he managed, really, was letting his breathing quicken and his eyes dart all over the room to find out where he was.

Captured again. What the hell was wrong with him.

Nothing much told him anything, inside. He could see a ray of sunlight shining through a gap in the wooden walls, which told him that he had missed a lot of time, and that he was inside of the huts. He also could tell by sensation that he was lying on the floor. The room was entirely bare, as far as he could see too, and his view was limited but it didn't seem likely that there was anything else anyway. It was _tiny._

The cut that he had gotten yesterday on his hand, stung against the chains when he clenched them; trying hard to squeeze them through and escape. He was starving as well, he realized, especially when his stomach grumbled loudly in the echoing silence around him. He should have had that damned soup, before.

Loki definitely knew he was gone now. He had to. And for some reason, the fear of him finding Tony counteracted the fear of whatever was going to happen to him at the hands of these Alphas. As far as he could tell, though, nothing else besides stripping him and chaining him had happened to him whilst he'd been out.

And that was a huge relief. More than he could think, actually. 

 

It was another hour before something else happened, and he had gotten aggressive in his struggling by then. Yanking on the chains and gritting his teeth when they dug into his already sore skin and _refused_ to break. His feet scraped and slid over the wooden floor, giving him splinters that he couldn't care less about, but it was thanks to them that he realized someone else had entered the room. They vibrated with the footsteps, sending shivers over his skin, and he jerked his head up to see who it was.

"You have 30 seconds to unchain me and back the fuck up." Predictably, he was ignored. This Alpha, one that he hadn't seen yet, was a little older than the others who had grabbed him but much younger than the old lady. Early middle-age maybe. He also had a sort of manic professional air about him, which heavily contrasted with the casual clothes that he was currently wearing, "Okay. I'm going to presume you're deaf, if you ignore me, so unless you want me to scream - "

"I would _love_ it if you screamed, actually, Stark."

Okay.

"It's _Mr_ Stark, actually. Or if we're being prudish about doctorates,  _Dr_ Stark, as well. Because I may be an Omega, but I have a hell of a lot more status that you do. Now fucking _let._ Me _go_." The Alpha smiled at him now, small and dry, like he was sharing a private joke, before he suddenly fished out a ball of old material from his pocket and crouching down; lifting Tony's head up by his hair to shove in into his mouth. He yanked his head back, his scalp stinging from the grip that had been on it, and he pressed his tongue against the makeshift gag, trying to spit it out -

Before he choked on his breath as a hard punch rammed into his stomach. _God_ -

He bucked at the pain, wheezing and panting through his nose, but he still glared up at the man beside him and lifted his legs to try and kick him in revenge. He was dodged, unfortunately, and his ankles hit the wood hard when they fell back down again, the gag muffling his moan of pain.

"Had enough?" Tony seethed behind the gag, his eyes dark with anger, and he swore at him anyway, despite none of his words actually making any sense past the material. "Good." Turning away, the Alpha pulled toward him a bag that he must have brought with him, and unclasped it wordlessly. Inside were rows upon rows of instruments. Torture instruments, to be specific. Tony tensed, his legs curling in as he watched most of them being taken out.

Who the hell _were_ these people.

Closing his eyes, the Alpha took a whiff of Tony's scent, leaning in closer, "Mm, they were right. I am getting lucky." Lucky. Tony stared at him.

_Tell Henry he's getting lucky tonight._

Henry, then. Henry. That sounded familiar -

Looking up at him, and then at the bag, Tony found the connection, and if possible, tensed all the more warily. Dr Henry Mackeltry. He was still alive, then. Jesus.

Mackeltry, watching for Tony's reaction, noticed the change immediately, "You've been in the house, then, I assume? Pretty impressive, wouldn't you say?" You sick fucking bastard. "Does it scare you Stark? To know that there are still people like me out there?" He looked down at a clamp in his hands, opening and closing it, vaguely muttering: "Well we did only shut down in 2008."

What? _2008?_

Jesus Christ. So recent. _Too_ recent.

He'd been assuming that it had happened  _years_ ago, not just a few - "But our ideas didn't go away with that closure, though. The _supreme court_ may have given more 'rights' to breeders like you now but our research is still conclusive. _We_ still count." Tony sneered at him, disgusted despite himself, but Mackeltry ignored him, brightening, "We've actually been trying to get _you_ for years, so I really have fucking gotten lucky. Shame none of the others are here, there was so much we could _do_ with you."

The gag was slowly soaking in saliva inside Tony's mouth, and he swallowed down the bile that was rising along with it. How could people like this be allowed to just wander around among every day people. It was wrong. So wrong. If they ever bring back the firing squad, any of them still alive needed to be signed up immediately.

"But still. More money for me, I guess." _Money_? Mackeltry reached out, stroking a line down Tony's cheek with a finger, and grinning when Tony turned away with a muffled snarl. "You don't understand. None of them ever do. _Omegas_. It's a wonder any of you make it out of school." Fuck you, you _fucking -_ "It really is lovely." He leant in again, breathing in Tony's scent with his nose just a hairs breadth away from where he had punched him. Tony took the opportunity to drive his knees back into his head, making him cry out.

Good.

Mackeltry straightened with a growl, glaring, but he didn't do much afterward in the way of punishment, "You're lucky I want this to last." He ran his hands over Tony's chest, ignoring how hard he struggled to get away from that touch, "It's been so long since there was an Omega like you around. Well. _Any_ Omega, really, but your type is one of my _favorites_."

Type? Okay, this was insane.

There aren't _types_ of Omegas. Alpha, Beta and Omega were _types_ but -

"Don't look so confused Stark, the modern world has no idea about types yet, it's not just _you_ who's clueless. They're just ignorant enough to put it down to hormonal spikes instead."

_Let me guess. Your 'research' says opposite._

"The foundation I worked for, however. We were _groundbreaking_. The _things_ we discovered ... " He leant back on his hands, tapping the clamp against the floor, lost in _memories_. His fingers shook just a little too, in Tony's vision, enough to clank the metal of the clamp repetitively. He narrowed his eyes, watching, "Ah, you should have been there. Well." He laughed, "I suppose you're glad you _weren't_ , actually." 

_You sick, sick individual._

"Omegas are born to serve, anyway. It should have been your duty as an American  _citizen_ to help our research accelerate, had the court sided with us." Only living to improve the lives of Betas and Alphas. Of course.

Backwards, breedonistic, _bastard._

Tony grunted behind the gag, straining against his chains in his anger. Mackeltry lifted his own hands, taunting him with how _close_ he was and with how little Tony could actually do to hurt him, and the shaking in his limbs was a lot more evident then.

He was an addict.

One in desperate need of a fix, too - of whatever it was he'd been taking so much of.

"And I don't care what fucking _O_ -Act there is in this country saying otherwise, that's all any of you are good for. And if the Court says that our research doesn't count anymore, isn't _ethical_ to be put under use, then like I said. More money for me." It wasn't _ethical_ jackass because you got those findings through _torture_. Cruel and Unusual punishment. " _We're_ the ones who discovered the types of Omegas. Proof was a little hard to get, I'll admit, but after the closure we didn't really need it."

God, was he _monologuing_. As sickening as it was, Tony was glad of it though, because as long as he did that, the more time he had to try and get out of here.

Working his hands out of the chains first, would work.

"Come on Stark, aren't you curious? Don't you want to know what you _are_?" Tony looked at him, trying hard to look unimpressed, even though he _was_. He couldn't help but listen, and that was probably Mackeltry's intention as well. All his life he had tried to find ways around his instincts, though, had done all he could to find out as much about Omegas as there was out there. Even classified information. And the only thing that he had ever found that he'd _not_ yet discovered had been a redacted document on SHIELD's database, and now, thinking on it, he wondered if they had known that this had been going on.

Known and done nothing. That sounded like SHIELD, alright.

"You're something special, I'll give you that. A special breed of Omega." Reaching out, Mackeltry's hands gripped Tony's in the chains, stopping his subtle wriggling out of it and squeezing them hard enough to cause his still-healing cut to continue to bleed. Tony bit his tongue at the pain, not wanting to give him any satisfaction at all. "We've only ever had 6 of you. And you all smell so _addicting._ " With his hands released, Tony glanced up at them, trying to look like he wasn't even listening, and focusing on how purple his fingers were turning instead. "Pain brings out the most delicious of your smells, did you know that? The more hurt you are, the more emotionally pained you are, the better you smell to Alphas. I've made -  _eons_ of cash selling that formula. Squeezing every ounce of pain from Omegas like you, until I could make enough."

Enough. Drugs.

An Ecstasy of _pained Omega_. God.

With it all making a horrible kind of sense now, Tony yanked hard on the chains again, trying a little more desperately to get out now that he knew what was going to happen to him. There was no fucking way that he was going to die being pressed and packaged into some _cosmetic_ _line_ arousal drug. Mackeltry grabbed him by the face, forcing him to face him, and clicked the clamps in his view.

"But first. I want my own fix, from you, too."

 

**_~_ **

 

* * *

 

**_~_ **

 

_Click -_

_Click -_

_Click -_

The only warning that Tony got for each one of these was the incessant clicking of the clamp as it neared his feet. Mackeltry's eyes were alight as he watched and drank in every reaction, every yell and whimper of pain, and as much as Tony had tried to hold it back, he'd never actually been particularly good at it. The clamp was gripping his little toe now, the last non-broken toe on his left foot, and he spasmed over the floor -  his other foot held down after he'd actually managed to kick his attacker just once - and when it began to _slowly_ press, he squeezed his eyes shut.

It took over a minute for the bones to break in each toe, despite them being so fragile anyway, mostly because of how much Mackeltry was _taking his time with it._ With each snap, there was a pause and he didn't care if there was no proof of this out there, whatever was happening to Mackeltry was definitely to do with his pain.

His right foot was released and Mackeltry sat on his left now, crushing the broken bones even further, and actually managing to make Tony scream behind the gag this time. His big toe was gripped now, and the crunch of his bones echoed around the hut as Mackeltry's nostrils flared from whatever he could smell. "God, you _bleed_ emotion, Stark. I've not had this for so long."

Tony shook uncontrollably, his eyes wide with revulsion, his gaze on the hammer that had been used to shatter his foot. It was there. Lying so close, and if he could just -

Another bone was snapped in the clamp and he bit down on the gag, tears spiking in his eyes no matter how often he blinked them away.

Fuck. _Fuck_. When he got out of here, the first thing he was going to do was put a bullet in this guy. In the _crotch_ first, and then the head. At least a half an hour apart.

"Oh, it's beautiful." Tony shut his eyes - echoes of Stane's voice reverberating through him - and he turned away when the side of his cheek was licked, heaving behind the cloth shoved in his mouth and willing himself not to throw up around it. "You're _wafting_ it, it's like - " Tony lifted his head up with a jerk, knocking his head with Mackeltry's hard. Well hard enough to push him backward and off of his aching foot, at least.

Visions of Stane standing over him, arc-reactor in hand and smirk all over his face, blurred with the anger on Mackeltry's own face as he stood back up.

With him now off of him though, Tony renewed his struggling, flinching at the jarring of his broken bones but continuing nevertheless. He was backhanded before he could even look up at his hands, however, and the brute force behind the blow actually cut open his lip; fiercely reminding him of Loki now, instead of Stane.

He recovered from the daze that it had caused quickly, still struggling from the chains binding him, before freezing at what Mackeltry reached for next.

No.

The blow torch wasn't on, not yet, but it didn't have to be. In his hands, it was enough of a threat that he went completely rigid just at the sight of it.

_No.  
_

Don't. He screamed behind the gag, cursing and begging all at the same time, but his legs were pried apart and - _no no no, FUCK!_

Switching it on now, Mackeltry's face was darker than before, less joyful and a lot more angry, "You like to touch, don't you. _Huh_? Like your Omega instincts of pleasure?" Tony's back came off of the floor as he bucked in his chains, "Well, what if the one thing that gives you the _most_ pleasure gets taken away? Would you like _that_?!" Forcing his legs together, Tony's eyes widened and he hated that there was nothing he could do. Mackeltry's grip on him yanked his legs apart anyway - no matter how much he tried to keep them joined - holding them there and bringing the torch closer.

Tony screamed again, the gag barely smothering the noise, and he stared up at the ceiling; heaving. Not wanting to see it happen.

He could feel it's warmth, could feel the blistering heat of it getting closer, the tingle of the first bit of pain, before -

Before it wasn't there anymore.

Warmth splattered over his stomach. Liquid. Not fire.

Looking back up at Mackeltry, the knife that was embedded in his stomach was more than a surprise, and he felt some vicious satisfaction at seeing some _pain_ in those eyes. But then Mackeltry fell on top of him, the torch still on though facing inwards now; burning him as he lay there over him. _Oh God_. Tony stared up at him, shocked and genuinely terrified, watching as life bled out of the eyes that were meeting his - nose to nose with a dying man. Blood dripped onto his forehead and he shut his eyes, trying to turn away, the heat of the torch too much for him now as well, and he couldn't - 

Mackeltry's body rolled off of him, the torch puttering out, and he struggled for breath, gagging on his own blood. Tony stared at him, swallowing twice past the cloth and ignoring the sensation of blood spattered all over him.

He knew who it was standing over him, he knew who it was that had come to get him, and he _hated_ the gratitude that he felt for that. Out of the frying pan, back into the fire he'd started with.

No fucking way.

He tried to struggle again, wanting to get as far away from this place as was possible, but the chains were as tough as they had been before. 

No! He was _not_ going back to that house.

Loki crouched next to him, tugging the cloth out of his mouth. "Nuh - " Tony choked, coughing to one side and wincing when his feet spiked with pain, "No, you can't, you - you can't - I _won't_ \- "

He was ignored and the chains were snapped between hands too strong to be human. Tony curled onto his side, trying to stand up on his own before staggering and crying out at the agony he caused himself. Loki's hands stopped him from falling. Loki was there, everywhere. Loki lifted him up and started to carry him away.

Tony convulsed in his arms, " _No._ No,I got out, I - you can't take me back. Not now. Please - " Delirious with fear and with pain, he didn't even think he was making any sense at all, "I won't go back. I _won't_ \- I got _out_."

_I got **out** of there._

He belatedly recognized the feeling of something warm being draped over his naked body - _the coat_ \- and then Loki's magic further seeped into him; dulling his senses and putting him to sleep.

No.

 _No_.

He couldn't -

He _refused_ to -

He was _not_ going back to that House.

He'd gotten _out._

.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this seems like it's going to be Tony getting grateful for Loki's rescue and falling for him _because_ of that, but trust me. It won't be :)
> 
> Also, breedonistic is just a term from my made-up universe XD You can probably guess it's meaning :)


	14. Chapter 14

.

* * *

 

Tony woke _screaming_ into utter silence.

" _No_ \- !"

He stared up at the ceiling, shocked and gasping, flashes of blood and bone and tongues running through his mind in the remnants of his nightmares.

The bed that he was in was as soft as he remembered it being. As warm as he remembered, as well, and it was probably _that_ particular memory that made him want to throw up.

He was back. Back _here_.

_No._

Shutting his eyes, he curled back under the blankets, wrapping his arms around his shaking torso and breathing loud enough to block out every creak and groan of the house. His heart physically ached in his chest with every beat and he shook as uncontrollably as he had when his bones had been - 

 _Click_. 

Minutes passed as he stayed that way, relaxing from his position only when his limbs started to protest.

He lay there for what seemed like hours - staring at nothing.

He was _back_. He was back, he was back, he was **back.**

Back and stuck inside this fucking house all over again and this time, he knew the way out was riddled with danger as well. No way out. 

Not anymore.

He traced images onto the pillow with his forefinger, vaguely recognizing the feeling of depression that now blanketed him and hating himself for getting affected by all of this so much.

Another part of him _praised_ his mind, however, for making it so long under these conditions.

He didn't know what to think, really. He didn't actually focus on anything but the one thing that was drawing on all these feelings in the first place.

Loki had brought him back.

He hadn't come in yet, though, despite the high likelihood that he'd heard him screaming.

Nothing much else happened either, and the only changes in the room throughout the entire day were the shadows that he saw move as he looked in the mirror.

His fingers lay entwined and spread out all at once when he stopped tracing, and he focused on them, wriggling each one over the pillow below him and ignoring the intense need that he had to either scream or cry.

There was no way he was going to do either, and it wasn't even because of pride at all, as well. He just - lacked the strength. The motivation to even show emotion.

He didn't want to get up, didn't want to do anything.

He was _done_.

By the time he felt the need to sleep again, he realized that his toes were healed. Curling and uncurling them proved that and he barely noticed that his foot was healed as well; still very tender, so not completely okay, but getting there.

Because of course. What Alpha would want a crippled Omega.

He could hear the grandfather clock from where he was, the incessant tick-tock driving him insane. His throat felt tight and he was still so hungry.

But he didn't want to get up.

Didn't want to acknowledge that he was back here.

Didn't want to _feel._

 

* * *

 

He must have spent more than a day like that. Silent, staring, and numb. The last time that he had felt this way, he'd gotten into a sports car and had almost killed himself recklessly driving.

Five weeks in hospital hadn't changed that feeling, either, just like a few days in bed wouldn't this time.

_Tick. Tock._

__Tick. Tock._ _

If there was one thing that he missed the most, it was _JARVIS_.

JARVIS telling him the time, JARVIS waking him up for meetings, reminding him of things that he had to do. Of the _life_ that he'd _led_.

There were so many things that he missed. Things he was likely to never get back now.

There was no way out.

In here, he was in danger. Out there was even worse. He had nowhere to go. No one to help him. Thor had said that no one had forgotten him or abandoned him and that they were going to help him so **_where were they?_**

It took about a minute for him to realize that the pillow was wet, and he hid his face into it's fur, burrowing further to muffle his sobs.

_Where were they?_

 

* * *

 

Maybe it was the shock.

That might explain the lethargy, the depression, the _need_ to do something but the lack of strength to do it.

The shock might have done it.

Because he _had_ had all of his toes - along with his left foot  - clinically shattered whilst being taunted with something that he'd only just learnt about himself. Something that no one had ever seemed to know before. Something that he wasn't even sure was real _now_.

That had to have left a mark somewhere, right?

So maybe it was the shock.

He'd rather forget the whole thing, actually, but that wasn't how his mind worked unfortunately. Every memory was as sharp as though it was still happening. It hadn't been the worst thing that had happened to him, but by _far_ , it was the most _vivid_ in his mind.

If only he could stop himself from shaking, though. If only he could control himself a bit better.

But memories of fire on his skin, the  _click_ of the clamp in his ear and the foreign touch of an Alpha - was enough to jar him out of any light doze that he found himself in.

And still.

Loki did not come.

 

* * *

 

It must be night now.

It felt like night.

It felt like - like he wasn't tired but his _mind_ was. Like his mind was so tired of everything, so _sick_ of this all -

 _The more hurt you are, the more emotionally_ pained _-_

He jolted, squeezing his eyes shut.

_Click._

_Click._

_Click._

**Stop it.**

Sitting up, he winced as his spine didn't agree to much movement after being so docile for so long. It passed though, and he tried standing, gritting his teeth to brace before remembering that his toes were now fully healed. As was his hand, he noticed when he leant on it to get up, but that was nothing. He hadn't cared about that and he didn't give a shit that it was all better.

Loki could shove his magic somewhere - "Ow!" His foot was still a little tender so now, with some weight on it, it actually hurt a lot more than it did when lying down.

 _Everything_ ached, really. He'd spent at least three days doing nothing but lying there; thinking of nothing, _doing_ nothing. Hating himself and the situation and _,_ more importantly, _Loki._

He made it to the wall before stopping to rub at his foot, soothing the sore skin around his ankle as the bones inside of it rejoined themselves beneath his touch.

God, that was sickening. 

Ignoring it, he reached for the wood, but the door didn't open to his touch. Not at first - and he almost panicked at the thought of being trapped alone in this room _, forever,_ but then he realized that he'd not actually _touched_ the wood yet and had only been hovering before it.

_What the hell is wrong with you._

It clicked open immediately after he touched it properly, and he shut his eyes for a second.

_Calm down._

Stepping out, he immediately walked into a wall - dizzy when his vision blurred, and he wondered if that was either because of a lack of food or because of the blood loss that Loki had obviously not accounted for when healing. He rubbed at his forehead with a moan, walking down the stairs slowly. Wanting to do something now, finally. Anything that would distract him from these fucking memories.

Every other door was wide open when he made it downstairs and he eased himself down every step, looking up to see them all propped against their frames. _Including_ -

Including the front door.

Tony froze, staring at it. For a second he thought he was dreaming again, and that something awful was about to happen.

But nothing did.

With a dry throat that cracked when he cleared it, he stared out into the fog, the chill of the air stinging at his skin as he just stood there.

"Be my guest."

He didn't bother turning around. Why bother. Who else would it be?

Loki's hand hovered just near the back of his neck - he could feel it's heat from their proximity - close enough that he could make a grab if he wanted to, before he then just dropped it. He could smell arousal, uncertainty, _anger_ , before Loki filtered himself away and hid his emotions much better than Tony could ever hope to.

He walked toward the stone steps that should lead toward freedom but _didn't_ , still staring out at the wisps of fog before him. It was a tease. Cruel, like everything Loki did. And so because of that, and because he wasn't an _idiot_ , with a genuine _roar_ of anger, he slammed the door shut and heard it's lock snap afterward; panting.

Loki didn't respond at all, so - as usual - it was down to him to break the silence.

"You _planned_ this." He accused, his voice raw and unsteady. Anger, he hoped, was the emotion to be the cause of that, but he wasn't so confident.

He was shaking again.

"No." Turning around at the answer, he couldn't even muster the energy to glare. Loki stood a little way from him, drinking that fucking wine again.

The normalcy of the moment seemed to add to the fire in Tony's stomach, "You knew those people were down there." He continued, coldly.

A sip of wine. "... yes."

"Then you knew I wouldn't be able to leave. You _planned_ this."

Again. Loki just took another sip, murmuring around the liquid, "No." Tony felt his warmth behind his eyes and he prayed he wouldn't. Loki sighed, looking at him as though he was fucking  _bored_ , "Honestly, I did not ever think that you would escape."

Tony narrowed his eyes, blinking back anything that wanted to leave them.

Escape. Not leave. _Escape._ Well. At least he was well aware that Tony had no intention of staying here willingly, but still. Where was all his nauseating conviction that Tony would one day  _adore_ serving him as an Omega?

Had he finally realized he couldn't bend someone like Tony to his will?

Couldn't break something already broken?

Tony slumped against the door with a sigh of his own, sliding down it with his back until he could sit, hunched, on the carpet, "Why are you always so thirsty?" Loki didn't answer that one, but it had mostly been a mumble anyway. More to himself, than anything. He raised his head to look at him then, knowing full well that the pain he was feeling inside wasn't being filtered at all. And that consciously or not, Loki could sense it. "Why did you bring me back here?"

Loki's eyes were lowered, and he spoke in the same curt tone as usual, "Because you are my Omega."

"I can be your Omega in my tower, _"_ Tony countered, numb. "I could still - " He stopped, hugging his knees to his chest and staring down at his feet, "Is it the pain?" Loki looked at him over the rim of his glass, "When I'm in pain, does my scent change? Is that why you chose me?"

There was a pause, and Tony anticipated the reaction that he'd give if the answer was _yes_. Thought about what he would do or what he would say. How he would _feel_ to know that it was only because of his - 

"Yes." Loki answered, leaning against the table that bore the snake sculpture, and regardless of what he'd thought he'd do, Tony only blinked at that, slow, resigned - watching as Loki pulled himself up to sit on the table but not really seeing anything more than some blurry outlines in his vision. Whatever Loki had done to heal him, was obviously still happening. He felt _awful_. "Your scent changes, yes." Loki continued, and Tony looked up at him, waiting, "But no. I did not choose you for that."

But - "Then _why_?"

"We have had this discussion before Stark, you know this. You are only here for one reason and that is for entertainment." No - "I needed to own your _property_ more than your body, you yourself were only - "

"Stopping _lying_ to me; I can _smell_ it from here." Tony growled, startling himself with that reply more than Loki seemed to be. He hadn't meant to say that, he hadn't even realized he could smell the change in Loki. "You - " He swallowed, ducking his head and gripping at the hairs on the back of his neck, biting down on the inside of his cheeks, and suddenly information that he had been subconsciously storing came flooding out, "Thor said that you haven't done anything to Stark Industries. And if they're all okay as well, then there's nothing else happening. You aren't _doing_ anything."

Okay, so Thor hadn't specifically been able to answer those questions, but if anything drastic _had_ happened, then he was sure that that would have been the first thing he'd been told during that visit. Loki was lying to him. Again. "So just tell me. Please. I _need_ to know why. I won't even ask you about why you turned blue - "

Loki slid off of the table immediately, walking toward him at a pace that had Tony jumping up and backing into the door as well, "Whydo you _'need_ ' to know? Do you think that this knowledge will _change_ anything? We will still be bonded, and I will still _own_ you, Stark. Whether you like it or not. _Why_ I do now, does not - "

"If it won't change anything then why not just _tell me_?!" Thin ice. He was on thin ice. But he didn't actually fucking care right now, either. All this time he had been relying on using his brain to help him find a way out of here, but now that he knew that even if he _did_ there wouldn't be anywhere else to _go_. There were torturers down there, insane on a level he'd not encountered since Vanko, and even if he _did_ make it out of this town there were others around too. And who knew who lived in them.

10 miles apart, _anything_ could happen to him.

He couldn't risk that and Loki knew it. He'd taken that last bit of hope away from him, and now, Tony had absolutely nothing holding back his anger. Nothing making him withhold anything that he'd found out about Loki whilst being bonded; subconscious or not. If he couldn't use it to escape, then he could use it for a bit of absolution at least.

Life owed him _that_.

Loki grit his teeth, turning to look away, before jerking his head back again with a snarl when Tony's hand found his arm. He yanked it back, "You so desperately wish to know, then." He sneered. "Well you _should_ know that it is nothing spectacular, Stark, nothing that claims you as _special_." He leant closer, breathing all over him. Tony could smell wine. Could smell a faint tinge of _blood,_ or what he thought was blood, as well, "I smelt your heat, and I smelt your _pain_. You aroused me and I took what I could claim. That is _all_. Are you happy now? Are you complete?"

"You told me you didn't choose me for my pain." Tony reminded him icily, rising on his tiptoes to meet Loki's eyes and glare into them. After his heat, he'd learnt that when Loki was second guessing himself, his pheromones dripped out a lot more often, as though to hide his blunder.

Just like they were doing right now.

"Yes. And I _lied_. Is that so odd to you?" He took a step back, then, glaring as well, "I do not have to explain my actions to _you_ anyhow. You are there only to - to listen to me. To entertain."

Tony stared at him. He'd hesitated.

Narrowing his eyes and flattening his feet, he tried to process that. Tried to figure out what it might mean. For _him_.

"Why do you drink so much?" He suddenly asked him again, louder this time. Hopeful in taking him by surprise so that he would actually answer, but Loki only turned his back on him and reached for the glass instead. Tony ran forward and shot his arm out, sweeping it off of the table and knocking it's contents out all over the carpet.

Staining everything near a _deep red._

"I don't like being ignored."

Loki's forearm was against his throat in a second and his feet left the ground completely as he was lifted and choked. He grabbed at him back, struggling against the grip before remembering himself and stopping; smiling a little with _effort_ , "Go ahead." He rasped, his eyes stinging again but he ignored them, "There's - nothing else you haven't done to me." Loki's eyes flashed with something and he was released, falling to the floor and coughing into the carpet. He rubbed at his throat, looking up at him from his knees, "K - tell me - why you chose me."

Loki knelt in front of him, gripping his chin with a hand and lifting it even higher; baring his throat, "No. _You_ tell me why you wish to know so much. Do you think that you can use it against me? Any new knowledge that you gain?" He glanced at the door, "You think that it will help you leave here?"

How did he know him so fucking well. He _hated_ it.

"I can't leave." Tony murmured, "You _know_ I can't. You did it on purpose." Loki's fingers tightened over his face briefly, before he shoved Tony away and stood. Tony staggered up behind him, immediately, "Tell me why."

"I _have_ told you, you _weak, little -_ " He stopped himself, keeping his back to Tony and clenched his fists once, before loosening them.

He was getting angry, then. Good. Maybe that would work.

But how long could he actually bait him? How long could he do this before something horrible really did happen to him? But - 

Then again. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe _that_ was the only way he was ever getting out of here, as morbid as it sounded. At least he wouldn't have to do it himself.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he waited for just a moment before -

"No you haven't. You can't even remember the _other_ lies you've told me, you just keep _merging_ everything together." Loki didn't turn back, but that didn't stop him, "I thought you were the greatest liar there was. Your brother told me about that. _Thor._ You remember him right? He was only here a little while ago, or has being bonded brought you down through some memory loss or something _?_ I mean - just laying around here, knowing that you could get your jollies off at any second, is probably _bound_ to make you lazy. I can get that." He was getting louder, angrier himself, "But now you can't even fucking lie to your own _Omega,_ doesn't that - "

"You can try and test me Stark, but that is all you can do." Loki interrupted, turning to face him, " _Try_." Tony stopped, looking at him. A part of him would once have seen that as a challenge. Now. He just sagged.

"Just tell me." He muttered. "I want to know _why_. I want to know why _me._ " His breath hitched unconsciously as all of his anger was then gone as fast as it had built up inside of him, "I want to know why you're _doing_ this to me _,_ why won't you just _tell me?_ "

Please.

Loki didn't even bother looking at him properly, "Go back upstairs, Stark. Your foot is probably still tender."

Ignoring the implication that he would _do as he was told,_ Tony stood a little straighter, "Not until you tell me why. It's a simple fucking question."

"I have told you." His voice was darker now, low in a way that sent vibrations through Tony's skin, "Your _smell_."

"You're ly - " Tony's tongue was almost caught between his teeth when his mouth was snapped shut. Loki slammed him against the wall with _nothing_ , holding him in place with his arms on either side of his head. He knew that his mouth had been sealed shut again, and he immediately regretted his decision in making Loki so angry. Especially now that the catharsis was actually attacking _him_ , "I do not have to answer to you, Stark. Do you understand that?"

Tony tensed, trapped between Loki's arms, staring at his chest and hoping that his heartbeat wasn't as fast as he thought it was. Now that he couldn't speak, he didn't really have any weapons left.

"You. Are. An _Omega_. You are an _object_ to be _owned_ , nothing more. And if there are to be any questions, then they are to be _mine_ , not yours." Tony's shoulders rose as he contemplated making his disagreement clear, but the dizziness from before suddenly came back in a bout that had him almost swooning. He must be anemic by now, at least. "You are only here to warm my bed and to _wait_ for me to arrive and use you.  _I_ am who you answer to.  _I_ am your purpose in life and if you cannot understand that, as arrogant as you are, then perhaps a simple memory alteration can change the _poisoned_ way you think."

_What - ?_

Tony reared back as though struck, his eyes wide. _Memory alteration_ \- ?

"No." He found himself saying - his voice given back - twisting his head away when Loki tried to place a hand over his forehead, "No, don't, don't, I can't - I _won't_ think like that, I - " Loki's fingers almost reached him and fear maddened him, _"Don't_ \- " He shoved him back, hard, trying to push himself away as well before he could actually  _do_ anything but Loki moved back himself, anyway; his face now utterly blank.

Tony rubbed at his still sore throat, fear and adrenaline pumping his blood around a lot faster than it should and he was suddenly all too aware of the disadvantages that he held in either a physical or mental fight with Loki. No matter what he did, he always came out on the losing side.

But that didn't mean he was giving up.

"I - look, I _understand_ what you think is my place. I do. I just - _please_." God. It hurt to speak like this. Hurt everything that he was. Everything that he had tried to make himself _become_. "I just - I need to know _why_ \- "

Loki didn't look so angry anymore. No, he looked _livid._ "Stark, I _swear_ to you - "

"It's only for myself, I promise. Just for some absolution - "

"Enough - "

"God, it's not a _secret!_ It's just a question, it's how I think. I have to _understand_ or I can't - "

"If you say that you understand your place, Stark, then - "

Tony rose onto his tiptoes again, the thin ice that he was metaphorically on, snapping beneath his feet, "Just _tell me_ why. Just say the truth, and I'll drop it. I'll go upstairs. I'll leave you alone. I won't - _test_ you, or whatever. Just - "

Loki's face was dark. And this was much worse than thin ice now. He should shut up, he _should_. It wasn't even important, it wasn't something that he _needed_ to know. Except that he did. He _did_ need to know. He couldn't let it go without an actual answer.

"I have given you sufficient -"

"Why did you choose me?"

Loki was closer now. "Stark, you are making this very hard to - "

" _Why?_!"

He was grabbed by the throat, Loki holding him against the wall, "If you continue to ignore me like this, I can only assume that you - "

But Tony was beyond caring, beyond _sense_ , "Just tell me - _WHY!"_

He was right there. He could kill him, could change his memories, break his bones all over again or anything much worse, but still, Tony couldn't drop it. "You do not question me. Do you not - "

"I'm _not_! I'm asking for an explanation - "

"I was - "

"Why did you choose me? Why _me_? It's a simple fucking question, I just want to know this _one thing_. It's one condition.  So just fucking _tell me **WHY** -!"_

Loki's hand embedded itself into the wall - " _I DID **NOT** CHOOSE YOU!_ " _-_ Just like it had upstairs, but this time it was _plaster_ that it went through. Tony froze as the smell of his blood filled the air, staring at him in shock. Loki was - _feral_ in the way that he stared down at Tony, his eyes burning with an anger like nothing he'd seen from him before. And yet, he calmed so surprisingly quickly too, his shout echoing around them both. "... I did not choose you."

Tony stared at him, breathing heavily, his face flushed from his own anger as he slowly lowered his own feet back down from their toes; seemingly shrinking as only the _tick-tock_ of the grandfather clock filled the silence.

Loki stared back at him, his mouth still open, his eyes dark and furious and a hand drawn back for another punch before he dropped it and curled it in by his side; useless.

_I did not choose you.  
_

Tony jerked away from his hand, blinking sharply as Loki forced it back out of the broken plaster - his knuckles now smeared with blood and dust.

"I - " Finally finding his voice, he quickly looked away from the broken hand, to stare into burning, green eyes that seemed more alive than ever.

"What the hell do you mean you 'didn't choose me'?"

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is turning out to be a pain :/ 
> 
> Still, I hope some of you are still enjoying it :)


	15. Chapter 15

* * *

 

_It was like his chest was on fire._

_Burning through the flimsy material of his clothes and shining brilliantly white light into his eyes, all while he was forced to remain so frozen._

_"Ah, I should have dealt with you years ago, Tony." Hatred didn't quite seem to cut it, with how he felt right now, "I knew that there were_ so _many ways that I could have, too. So many opportunities ... " Stane sighed, the arm that he had around Tony's shoulders flexing as he looked right into the light of the arc-reactor, "No one would have suspected a kidnapping, you know. Or an Alpha group taking you away for slave auctioning." Tony's eyes followed the reactor's glow as it turned in his hands, ignoring the huff of laughter that breezed into his ear, "Hell, you might even want to give Hogan a raise, the amount of times he's stopped someone from bonding with you. Someone that_ I _... that I paid off first."_

_Jesus, how could he have been so fucking naive._

_Stane leant closer, the faint tinge of a Beta's bitterness filling Tony's nostrils immediately and he grit his teeth with effort, and with_ anger _, against the paralysis that his goddamn_ guardian _had placed over him. Stane, if he noticed his attempts to move again, didn't even comment on it and only stood to pack away the reactor into briefcase he'd brought along._

 _"When your father gave us the atomic bomb, no one thought that his breeding son would ever live up to his legacy." He looked down at Tony with a smile, "I guess the public was right about some things, huh." God, Tony hoped that whatever emotion he was feeling wasn't reflecting into his eyes; betrayal was ranking pretty high, "As an Omega,_ pleasure _is your first instinct. And what kind of world do you think it would be today, if he'd been as selfish, as_ hormonal, _as you?"_ _He snapped the case shut, his smile dimming just a bit, as though he actually regretted what he was doing, "It's really for the greater good, Tony. We're only putting the powers of the world back into our hands. The Alphas' hands." He turned back again, now ready to leave. Ready to walk away. Ready to_ leave Tony behind to **die** _. "The capable hands."_

_Running his hand down Tony's leg, he smiled again. That motion had used to be known as the typical symbol of dominance that Alphas had used back in the 19th century, and Tony only realised then how he'd done it all this time. How he'd fooled him._

_Touching him like that, pulling him in, hugging him, catching his arm ... He'd been telling the whole world all along how 'incapable' Tony Stark was. And he hadn't even had to_ say _anything._

 _"It's why your father chose_ me _to be there for you."_

 _No. He'd chosen Stane to balance Tony's inexperienced ticket._ Stane  _had chosen himself to try and gain the power through an Omega minor._

He'd _chosen that path for himself.  
_

_Well, at least he'd had the choice ...  
_

 

**_~_ **

 

* * *

 

  ** _~_**

 

Plaster lay in thick streams of dust all over the floor, merging with the carpet's fibres and clouding Tony's senses as he stood there; frozen in shock. Paralyzed almost, in both memory and surprise. "What the hell do you mean you didn't _choose_ me?"

Typically, he wasn't answered, and more of the wall only broke apart as Loki pushed himself from it, turning to walk away. Tony was there in a second, however, his hand clasped around his wrist, and he wasn't even shoved off either. "Don't you dare walk away from me now, you fucking bastard. After _all_ you've done to me, you _owe me an answer._ "

Loki looked down at his hand, impassive, "Do I."

If this was guilt, he swore to _God_ he'd find a way to hurt him right now. _Badly_. "Fine." He snatched his hand back and glared at him, "Then I'll just guess."

"Stark - "

Tony ignored him, "Your 'Alpha' instincts made you go crazy for me?" Loki just looked at him, "Guessing that's a no then." When that only drew a smile, he almost lashed out again, "God, is this just a _game_ to you?"

"In a way." Loki responded, dully, "You would not underst - "

" _Try me."_ Tony spat, ignoring the anger that blossomed onto Loki's face and he interrupted what was likely to be a full blown rant, "No _._ No, _you_ brought me here. _You_ raped me. And _yo_ _u_ did this to me. So whatever the _fucking_ reason is, I don't give a shit, I just want to - "

"Then why _ask_ so much for it?"

"Because I _need_ to know!" Wait. This felt wrong. Somehow - "I don't want to know _why_ just so I can _accept_ and _forgive_ you. That's not me. And you don't even deserve it. Hell, you don't even deserve _anything_. I only wanted to know so that I could know why _me._ Why this was happening to _me_. I wanted to know why you and why life could be so fucking _unfair -_ !" He was panting by the time he finished, horribly aware that his face was flushed with anger and that it probably made him look so much more upset than he was. "I just wanted to know why a guy like you would _do_ this to someone else. I want to _understand_."

Nothing else was said for an awkwardly long time, and at first, he thought that Loki had actually just left anyway. That he'd just gone away while Tony had been screaming and staring at the ground, but then he saw his boot slide slightly forward in his vision and heard the shuffle of his steps as he came closer, "There is nothing to understand." Loki murmured; Tony looked up at him, "Only this."

He was going to strangle him. He was. "Well, I can't accept that."

"Then _don't_."

Tony clenched his hands into fists, his nails digging crescents into his palms, "Look. Let me make this _clear_. You've taken everything away from me, do you _get that_? The _least_ you could do is just give me an _answer_!"

Loki only turned away with a sigh, his face completely void of anything now. No anger and no amusement. "Don't dwell on things that you cannot understand, Stark, you will only - "

"Only what?" Tony snapped, "Depress myself? Hate you more than I already do? Bit late for that, don't you think?" He was glared at then, and the ice in that gaze almost subdued him, but that was better. Anger was better than whatever else it was Loki was filtering through their fucking bond. "God, you _treat_ me like a - "

" _I_ treat you far better than any other Alpha around here would have!" Loki yelled back, unexpectedly, rounding on him as though what he was saying was actually completely justified, "You experienced their treatment, you saw upstairs how they used - "

"What, and you think that makes what _you_ did _right?!"_

"No! You think that I don't _know_ what I _-_ " Loki started, before stopping himself and looking down at the snake's sculpture instead.

 _That I_ \- what?

Tony's hands clenched and unclenched and he stepped forward himself now. This ... wasn't what he'd been expecting, really. He'd expected more anger, a punishment maybe, or even just some more Loki- _laughter_ at the situation.

He'd seemed to find it so funny _before_. But this? He didn't know what this was. But whatever it was, he didn't like it. Nor trust it.

Stepping forward again, right into Loki's line of vision, he blocked whatever it was that he may be thinking and jarred him enough into actually meeting his eyes for a second. He held the gaze and filtered himself out, using his own emotion to manipulate whatever Loki may or may not be feeling, to try and find out _more_ about what he meant himself; two of them can play at the ' _using the bond_ ' game - but his arm was grabbed before he could even get close enough to finish the process.

"I wouldn't." Loki told him, gripping him hard.

Tony jerked his arm back, aware that Loki's eyes were at least now a little more clearer and less insane. So he could do his job of calming him, then. At least that was something. "What did you mean you didn't choose me?" He repeated, then. Aware now that if he persisted, he was more likely to get an answer eventually.

But this time, it was only a little more silence that stretched between them, slowly making the hairs on the back of his neck rise in the tension that he could feel building. And then, Loki just suddenly turned on his heels and walked through the open doors into the guest-entertaining/living room.

Tony blinked, frowning after him, hesitated, and then followed him through; wincing when the doors clicked shut - hitting him with an overpowering recall of memories. The room _stank_ of them, he noticed, and he hated that.

"Loki. What did you _mean_?"

Loki refused to answer again and only uncorked another bottle of wine, filling the glass up until it was brimming to drink; holding it away in case Tony decided to swipe it down again. Which was more than a little satisfying, he supposed. But it would help if he acknowledged him some too.

Finishing the wine in only the one gulp, Loki sat with an unusual lack of grace onto the sofa - hard enough that it actually squeaked beneath him. "This house." He murmured to the table, holding the now empty glass loosely. Probably deciding whether to fill it up again or not. "What do you know of it?"

Okay.

Tony looked at him from where he stood, unsure of what to say or what to think. When it became evident, though, that Loki wouldn't explain further or ask anything else, he slowly stepped around to sit onto the seat opposite, curling his legs in close and ignoring the gaze of the now fully-fixed Hansel and Gretel statues. The candles in here were wax compared to the others around the house, and they each threw bizarre shadows across the walls, blanketing everything inside with a dim show of monstrous light. It was eerily distracting. "Nothing." He finally answered. Which was true, to an extent, but he still chose to think on it harder and elaborate anyway, "It's ... full of dead bodies? It used to be a facility that tortured Omegas, using them to find out how to pleasure Alphas." He frowned, "Some of it's sick workers are still alive?"

Loki hummed, "One less of them, now."

"Yeah, thanks to you." Narrowing his eyes, " _Why_? Is this your attempt at changing subject or something, because you picked a fucking dreary one to land on - "

"Omegas were not the only things that were kept locked up in here." Loki interrupted his muttering, half of his face swallowed up in shadow. In the poor light, he looked positively demonic. "Betas were also kept, for the same reason, and any other creature that they had found to not be human."

Where was this going?

"So? If they couldn't see _Omegas_ as people, then it seems pretty obvious that they'd do the same to mutants as well."

"I am not talking of _mutants_. I'm talking of beings from other realms. The realms that I grew up reading of, and learning of their _own_ balances."

 _Balances?_ Well, that was a term he'd not heard before.

"This facility was also not controlled by _only_ human workers, either."

A nonexistent breeze smothered out a candle with a _hiss_ and Tony shivered as it swept over him as well, glaring when he saw that Loki didn't even seem affected by it at all, "Is this about why you turned blue?"

Loki sighed, irritably, "No. I was born that way, unfortunately." Tony raised an eyebrow, "There are many things that you do not know about me, Stark, and much that you don't _need_ to know either."

"On the contrary, we're bonded." Saying the word left a bad taste in his mouth but he swallowed it down, "We should share all of our secrets, it's how a relationship works."

Loki leant back on the sofa, "And that is what you would call _this_ , then, would you?"

Tony squinted. "No."

Loki smiled wryly, "I thought so. So does it really matter?"

_Yes._

"No." Tony repeated, feeling like an errant schoolboy suddenly, so he focused on the snuffed candle instead. "So what _is_ the point of this, then? Just a story-time to calm me down?"

"Seems to be working."

Tony stood immediately, his legs responding fast enough that it was as though he'd meant to stand all along. "Fuck you." He turned to leave, fed-up of all of this - short-tempered as he suddenly always seemed to be after his heat - though at least he was no longer so _paranoid_.

Still. He was wasting his time here. He should look for a way out instead. Those rooms upstairs held the key to an exit. He knew they did.

Somehow.

"Asgard has no Omegas." Loki called after him before he could get to the door. Well. Not really called, but - definitely speaking a lot louder than he had before - to catch Tony's attention. Make him pause. "But our Alphas destroyed them. Let their instincts get the better of them."

Tony did stop then, did listen, but that didn't mean that he could shut up as well, "Like _you_ do?" He snapped, harsh and honest and more angry that he felt he could be.

He didn't get an answer, though. Not for a while, anyway. But he didn't dare chance a look behind to see what kind of expression Loki had on his face; the chill in the room seemed to be making itself a lot more evident instead, and he remembered the ice of Loki's skin as he'd turned blue above him.

Was _he_ doing this?

"Perhaps." Loki then granted him, quietly, before continuing from where he'd left off, "But regardless of Asgard's mistakes, that does not mean that other realms do not _still_ have a balance of their own." Looking at the locked door now, Tony vaguely wondered if it would even _open_ to his touch now that Loki so obviously wanted his attention. He decided to not even bother trying and only turned and leant against it's threshold instead. "Whether or not they know each other by terms like _Alpha_ , or _Omega_ , the balance is still there in each of the nine realms. All excluding Asgard."

Okay, seriously, who _cared_? He knew all this already, from bits that Thor and Loki have said before. Sort of. "So? What's your _poin_ t?"

Loki looked at him, so clearly debating over whether to answer that or not, and it was _that_ naked show of emotion that triggered Tony's senses into realizing that he actually _was_ telling the truth right now. Surprisingly. But there was something else mixed in with that uncertainty as well, though. Something that he couldn't quite get a read on.

Blinking out of his thoughts, he heard Loki let out a soft, but audible, curse, and when he looked toward him, he saw him lower his head into his hands for just a moment; readying himself for - _something_. "I," He paused, meeting Tony's eyes with his fingers clasped under his chin, " _I_. Am not - from _Asgard_." Right. Tony didn't respond, which clearly was not what Loki had hoped his reaction would be. Good. He explained a little more, anyway, probably thinking that that would help. "I was born from a realm known as Joteinheimr, where the majority of it's population are the Jotun. Or - Frost Giants, in your mythological vernacular." He sighed again, wringing his fingers together, " _That_ is why my skin ' _turned blue'._ "

Tony chewed on the inside of his cheeks, biting back the urge to say what he was thinking. Because, _seriously_? _That's_ the question he wanted to answer?

"Okay." Tony gave him, "Am I supposed to be shocked?" Loki didn't move or answer, "I really couldn't care less about why your skin turned blue, Loki, I care more about _me_ and why I'm here. And like I said before, you owe me an answer." He was getting really tired of this. And that inescapable numbness he had aching around his heart didn't seem to want to go away. He knew he sounded so dull, but he wondered if he looked as dead as he felt too.

Maybe that was why Loki hadn't hurt him yet. Thought he wouldn't be able to take it, weak as he still was. Blood loss, healing bones, and a few days just lying in a depression. He wasn't in top form, at all. But then again, had he _ever_ been since being brought here?

Loki stood, he saw it in the corner of his eye, and Tony automatically took a step back before freezing and ranting at himself in his head for it. What happened to not being paranoid? "I'd hoped Thor would have explained." He murmured, more to himself but loud enough that Tony caught wind of it.

The anger from before, still simmering, came out all over again and he belatedly wondered if maybe he and Loki had swapped personalities somehow. "Explained _what_? That you're a Frost Giant, or that you're a rapist? Because I kinda got the last one myself, and I don't really need a lot of explanation for the first." Loki didn't answer. He seemed to be far more focused on Hansel's marble-carved hair, than on Tony right now. Tony opened his mouth to shout, now, and to - Wait. "Hang on. You said that you didn't _want_ Thor to know about this house. You freaked out about it."

 _That_ seemed to garner a reaction at least, as Loki twitched visibly and turned his back on him, staring up at the shadows on the wall, "Not of the _house,_ Stark. Of me." Running his hands down it, he sighed, "I thought you were supposed to a genius."

He was. And he did _get_ it. He just didn't see it as important. "I am a genius. And I understand that you're saying and thinking that just because you're not from _Asgard_ , you don't have the same instincts and the same ancient blood on your hands as they do, and for some reason you think that this is actually excusing - "

" _Nothing_ is excusing this, do you not _understand_ \- ?" Still not facing him, Loki's hands dug into the wall, actually pressing into the mold and the chipped paint; turning his fingers a dark brown. "Forgiveness is not a necessity, and judging from what you have said, I will not receive it anyhow. But _you_. You want to - to _understand_." He turned again, facing Tony, his eyes dull in the light which contrasted every other emotion that the both of them were feeding through the bond.

Tony felt that uncertainty again; felt resignation alongside it too. It took a very conscious effort for him to not try and open the door behind him, or to at least move out of Loki's path as he walked toward him. "But to understand, you must understand the realms. They - "

"Loki." Tony stopped him halfway, staring up at him as he realised then that he was actually cowered away from the tension he radiated, "I don't think you understand what I'm asking, so this time, _read_. My. Lips." Pointing to them with as patronizing a glare as he could muster, he spoke again, slower this time. Exaggeratedly. "Why. Did you say. That you _didn't._ Choose. Me?" Loki's face hardened but he didn't stop. "A straight answer. That's all I'm fucking asking for, okay, and - "

He sucked in a breath when Loki was suddenly pressed against him - his hands pinning him to the wall. The murderous Loki was back, the darkening of his gaze evidence of that, but for once Tony didn't let that rage affect him as he had before and just took a step to the side; breaking out of his hold with an angry swipe of his arms.

"You know what, don't _worry_ about it. I'm done." His hand skimmed over the door and it thankfully opened to his touch, letting him slip past it and walk on out of there.

He continued walking too, furious and wary all at once and he had no idea what he was even supposed to think or do after that conversation.

He wasn't so sure of anything anymore.

 

**_~_ **

* * *

  ** _~_**

 

Searching the house had turned out to become more of a hobby than anything actually helpful. Because while he did find more bodies and more torture methods, there wasn't anything leading toward a way out. 

 _Nothing_. 

Every door he opened, every room that he walked into, all he could see and all he found were either bodies or lists of their victims. Nothing that could help lead him out. Nothing _useful_ in the least. He slammed shut the most recent that he was looking into, gagging at the stench within it and feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion hitting him as he walked away from, drooping his eyes even though he wasn't sleepy at all. He almost inwardly blamed Loki, but it wasn't a physical tiredness anyway.

This _was_ him. He was just so tired of all of this. Mentally, mostly, but that was affecting his physicality too.

God, if he did ever get out of here, he was looking into asking Bruce for some prescription Prozac. He froze at the reminder of Bruce, wondered then what he was doing out there. If he was helping them try and find a way to get Tony out of here. Or if he was calming himself down most of the time, instead.

He even thought about what might happen if Thor had actually told them where he was too. He kind of hoped that the Hulk _did_ take a punch at him. He deserved it for taking on that stupid, fucking deal.

He continued to search in rooms, looking and re-looking, until the pricking sleepiness behind his eyes caused him to actually sway on his feet. He must be a little weaker than he thought, or maybe it even _was_ just Loki filtering magic into him from downstairs.

He hated that he couldn't even tell, and headed toward the 'bedroom' when it became clear that his concentration and energy was completely shredded now.

Loki wasn't in the room when he made it back inside so he immediately curled under the blankets, rolling onto his back to glare up at the ceiling. There _had_ to be something. Some place that he hadn't looked in yet. There were still so many doors that he hadn't opened yet. And from the outside, he'd seen that the house went off into the hill that it sat on. So maybe _that_ was the key. Maybe if he found the way to get down there, he could find a new way out. In a hill like this, there had to be some tunnels at least; didn't older houses like this use to cart bodies off that way?

And tunnels _always_ had exists, in case of cave-ins or gas, or something.

So there was a way out. There had to be. He wasn't going to give up on the idea.

No way.

 

 

**_~_ **

* * *

**_~_ **

 

It was darker than usual when he woke up again, which meant that the candles in the room had been blown out.

That only meant one thing and he wrapped his fingers into the rim of the blanket tighter, holding it in case Loki decided to tug it off of him. He'd been angry when Tony had left, who was to say wasn't still that way, now?

It only took him another second longer to realise why he'd woken up, and once he had, he just shut his eyes again - trying to let the sleep that still dulled his senses take over again. He was half out of it, anyway, and it was easy to fall back into that doze but the bed creaked again before he could actually manage to to get that deep. For God's sake. The rustling of sheets echoed into the dead silence of the room and Tony curled himself in tighter, pretending to be fast asleep so he wouldn't have to deal with another 'conversation'; if he could even call them that.

He went rigid, however, when a hand ran through his hair, still holding onto the pretense that he was asleep and filtering out as calm an emotion as he could make in case Loki could sense his acting. Whether he did sense it or not, though, he didn't say anything to show it and the hand ran a little lower too; a thumb running under his bottom lip. What was he doing? Despite everything that had happened, the touch felt good in a way, melting into his Omega light zones and he relaxed into it; ignoring the exposed vulnerability he felt alongside it.

The thumb moved after a while and his brows twitched in discomfort at the lack of it, before he then felt, rather than heard, a sigh.

And then there were lips being pressed to his. He froze, letting him move over his parted ones - softer than anything Loki had ever done to him. Gentle even, if he could _associate_ the word with the guy.

The kiss ended as quickly as it started, and then the bed creaked a third time. Tony opened his eyes in a flash, cutting into the silence with a whisper of: "What the hell was that." Loki was still standing over him when he squinted into the dark, so he saw him pause at the sound of his voice, and glance back down at him in surprise. Tony kept his face cold, looking up at him from where he was snuggled under blankets and in bed.

There was a pregnant pause between them for a good long while, before - "You should sleep." Loki murmured, instead of answering his question. God, the guy should be a politician, seriously.

He reached for Tony after that then, as though he planned to touch him like that again and lull him back into relaxation.

Tony darted back his head back, "No. Don't." Loki's hand dropped and he raised an eyebrow, "You don't get to do that, okay." Another sigh, but he continued ranting anyway, aware that he might be ignored anyway, but wanting to make himself  _clear_ , "You don't get to just switch and _change_ and think that it'll matter now. Stop merging personalities." He rolled over, shuffling onto the other side of the bed quickly, because he knew that despite how much he clearly hated him, Loki would still have to sleep here. Every other bed probably had a corpse somewhere. "If you're going to sleep too then - don't touch me."

He was really asking for it, in a way, but right now he couldn't even bring himself to care.

The mattress dipped beside him as Loki slid under the blankets as well, "Sleep." He just whispered into the dark, still not answering anything. Tony darted his eyes all over the walls - his mind foggy with sleep - so instead of dwelling over the fact that Loki was lying beside him like this, he just let himself fall into asleep again.

Hoping that it wouldn't be a nightmare. 

He woke another three other times during the night. With everything that had happened last startling him back into reality, and he actually covered his ears with his hands when the grandfather's _tick-tock_ echoed horribly through his mind.

_Click._

_Click._

He moaned, forgetting that he wasn't alone for just a second so when Loki shifted behind him, he almost jumped out of his skin.

"Sleep." Was the repeated order; Loki's own voice hoarse with sleep, too, "Your bones are still healing, and resting will help them more than I."

 _Sleep, or I'll make you -_ he'd said before. Tony felt like saying that he didn't _want_ Loki's help, that he'd healed from broken bones himself before, but he couldn't really be bothered to even open his mouth.

He was asleep again in seconds. And this time, he didn't wake up for another few more hours afterward. The bed was empty when he did, and he stretched over the room that he now had, no longer as cramped and squeezed as he'd been when trying to avoid touching Loki. He rolled over, leaning on his arms to help him get up before pausing and staring at what he caught glinting over on the floor.

"Um."

Lying innocently against a shard of broken wood, where Loki's fist had once been, was a single, tiny, golden key.

.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter of this and then I'm returning to my other WIPs for updates too :)


	16. Chapter 16

* * *

 .

The key was actually _really_ tiny.

It fit comfortably in the palm of his hand as he stared down at it, his eyes narrowed in as incredulous an expression as he could make. None of the doors that he had seen so far had a keyhole, despite being locked shut, but if _this_ key's size said anything then maybe he'd just not been looking hard enough.

And then that brought him to the reason of _why_ Loki had left it there for him. It couldn't have been on accident, the key had been lying there far too carefully to have just been dropped.

It glinted at him in the candlelight. What was this? A game? A ploy to see what Tony would do with it?

Or maybe Loki had just had enough of him, and this key was his not-so-subtle way of telling him to hit the curb. He scoffed to himself, clenching his fingers around the it. Yeah right.

But still. Whatever this key was, he wasn't going to find out just _sitting_ here.

So, first things first. Seeing if Loki was anywhere near. If not, then he could get going.

It really was a fucking _hobby_ now, wasn't it.

 

* * *

 

 

Every door that he passed mocked him as he walked. Some that he'd already opened, others that refused to - no matter how _hard_ he pushed - and there wasn't a keyhole that he could see anywhere. Whatever this key was, it clearly wasn't anything to do with these doors.

Unless.

Pausing, Tony looked down the other corridor, toward the darker areas where he'd barely been able to see where he was going at all. He felt an irrational flutter of fear at the thought of even going back there, but he needed to find a way out. And that _was_ the only place that he'd not checked more than once.

The last time he'd gone through that corridor, though, he'd been drawn back by Loki electrocuting his _hand_ in one of the torture rooms. He hadn't even reached the end by then, so he had no idea how long it went. So maybe that _was_ it.

Could it really be _that_ simple?

Sliding a hand down the wall as he walked, he squinted as the light - that was dim enough anyway - completely vanished the further in he went until he was left completely blind. Which was nothing short of terrifying, to say the least.

He could hear himself breathing when all other sounds muffled, could hear the echo of it in his ears, and he bit down on a gasp when his foot knocked against something that lay against the wires on the floor - sending it rolling across the boards. "Okay." He whispered to himself, ignoring what his imagination told him that it was and continuing on.

God it was just the _dark_ , why was he so afraid of this? He hadn't been so freaked out about anything like this since his childhood, and even then it had been drilled out of him at a young age. Specifically when Howard had told him to spend 7 hours alone in the mansion's basement. Ah, such nice memories.

He'd been almost cationic by the time someone had found him huddled in the corner and had taken him out to warm up and feed. Howard had apparently forgotten about him being down there, but even though it had completely traumatized Tony for months afterward, it had still worked. The dark had no longer scared him as it had, despite how frightened he'd been during those 7, _long_ hours.

Now, however, he felt just like he had when he'd been seven years old and locked in a basement, and he couldn't fight the feeling down at all.

A wire sparked just near his elbow and he lurched back with a shout, covering his mouth with his hand when the sound echoed because, for some reason, he was bizarrely afraid that something down here would hear him. Paranoid. Again. 

"Get a grip." He muttered to himself as he lowered his hand. It then took just another second for him to remember that he had been holding something in that same hand before, and his heart jolted erratically just the once when he _realised_.

He'd dropped the key.

"Shit - " He fell to his knees immediately, his hands fanning out to try and find it quickly. The house groaned around him as he searched and he flinched at every other sound that it caused, scrambling all over the place to find it. "Come on, come on." He didn't even know if it was _important_ or not, but it felt like it was. He felt like he needed it. "Fuck - where are you?"

Something tinkled when it brushed his little finger and he quickly patted around in that direction. Fingers fumbling from the cold, he felt the corners of whatever it was and breathed a sigh of relief when it matched the key's shape. Thank God.

He stood then, curling his fingers around it with one hand and reaching out with the other to try and find the wall again. Only to find nothing. Dammit, he hadn't crawled _that_ far.

Taking any step in any direction now, was suddenly a lot scarier than it had been before - especially now that he didn't know where he was going at all. The wall had been his Ariadne's thread, so without it, he was effectively lost.

"Shit. Shit, shit, _shit_." This was beyond terrifying, he could admit that to himself. In the dark for a while was awful in itself, but if he couldn't find his way _back_ -

Stop it.

He hadn't walked that far, it'd be _easy_ to find a way out. He'd be fine. He just needed to stop panicking so much. And all things considered, at least he knew _now_ why he'd not come down here again, even when he'd been desperate and searching for a way out.

But he knew that this key didn't fit anywhere else, so it had to be something down here. Didn't it? Or maybe it really was just a trick and Loki was downstairs somewhere, laughing at him.

"Only one way to find out." He murmured to himself, taking a deep breath. He checked that he still had the key, letting it's edges dig into his skin, before then taking another step forward into the pitch- _black_ of the corridor. The floorboards creaked under him and he considered turning back to try and find the wall again. It didn't look like anyone had been down this part for months, longer than any of the other rooms, and it probably wasn't even that safe to walk on. Any second now, he might even fall in or something.

And then what?

Steeling himself, he thought about it all for another second longer before wincing when the wood creaked again, louder this time, but there was nothing that he could do about that from where he was. He wasn't even moving anymore so there was no way it should -

There was a snap from under him and he froze. Oh God. Another snap and this time, he felt something splinter beneath his right foot. Talk about a self-fulfilling _nightmare_. His heart leapt and he turned back immediately, lifting a foot to either tip-toe or run, but apparently that was all the ground needed.

With one last crack, the floorboards snapped clean in half from right under his feet as he tried to flee, " _Ah_ \- !" And his body whipped through the gap when there wasn't anything there to hold him up anymore. " _Gah_!" His back hit against something hard and smooth, and he scrambled for purchase with his one, empty hand, still holding onto the key with the other and squeezing his eyes shut on automatic. His fingers couldn't find a grip anywhere and he continued to slide down against whatever it was that he'd landed on.

He grunted when he was knocked against rocks, his bare feet scraping and burning from the speed that he was sliding on and he cried out when his shoulder jammed into something sharp and bulky. He couldn't quite reach it before it went, though, and he screamed when his attempt to reach only resulted in him turning over onto his stomach and falling even faster. "N - !" He couldn't _see_ anything, didn't even know what he was falling onto, or how far he was going down, and he didn't think that his heart had _ever_ been lodged so far in his throat before.

"Fuck - !" A rush of cool air hit his face then, without warning, and the next thing he knew was that he was completely submerged in dangerously chilled water. "Ghad - !" He came up for breath hurriedly, gasping and shivering, paddling with his aching feet to try and stay up and shaking violently enough to cause splashes around him. It was still so dark, perfectly so, but there was actually a faint glow somewhere to his left.

Something to aim for.

With effort, he forced himself to swim in that direction, sucking in gasp after painful gasp as the cold stabbed at him from all sides. He hit an edge of some sort and quickly tried to pull himself up and over it, landing heavily on his side and coughing into the air as he tried desperately to warm himself up. "Ngh - " Squinting, he looked around for the glow and slowly managed to get up to his feet to walk toward it.

It was a torch. Old-fashioned and lit. _How_ , he didn't know, but it was warm and it was light and he really needed both right now. It slid out of it's cup easily enough and he held it above his head to see just where he was.

Jesus, Jesus, it was so cold.

The room that he had fallen into was circular, filled only with the pool that he'd been dunked in before. Hydro-torture, then. How charming. He was still shaking as he stood there, his teeth chattering, but the fire was helping with it a bit. He needed something much, much warmer soon though, or else his body would likely shut down. But as far as he could see there wasn't any other way out of here, other than the gap in the ceiling that he'd made falling in.

Swallowing, he jerked the torch around, the rush of the fire dazzling his eyes after the long while he'd been in the dark and he walked with it before him; watching the pool's edge carefully. Someone had once brought Omegas in here to hurt them, so there had to be another way out. Looking around and spinning in a circle to see everything, he found it.

A door.

" _Yes_ \- " He shivered as he walked; goosebumps prickling everywhere. Most everything that happened to him in this house always seemed to feel so surreal, but now, he just seemed to continue on and do his best not to let it get to him too much. The door was shut when he reached it and he pressed at it with his knee to try and swing it open. There wasn't a handle that he could see though, and it seemed to be stuck. Great. Perfect, even.

Everything hated him.

He jammed his shoulder into it to heave, crying out when that only reawakened the pain that he'd caused it before - when sliding down here. " _Fuck_ \- !" He punched the door in his frustration.

Lowering the torch, he narrowed his eyes, stopping and leaning closer when he then saw a tiny, little hole sitting exactly where a handle would usually be.

A keyhole.

Okay. This was beyond nuts, now.

With a start, he wondered if he'd dropped the key again during his fall or swim, but looking down at his hand he saw it nestled there safely; just the right size. Biting down on his bottom lip, he brought it up between his thumb and forefinger and slotted it in place, turning it slowly until he heard a click.

"Huh." The door slid open then and he stepped inside warily but gratefully, gagging at the sudden smell that hit him from behind it. "Oh God." An overwhelming scent of old, rotting flesh filled his nose and he covered his face with his arm, trying hard not to throw up. It was everywhere though, and as he looked down from where he stood, all he could see was a set of glistening wet stairs that seemed only to lead to _another_ corridor. Made of stone, this time, and not wood, but still.

What was this, a live-action Shrek movie?

Praying that this at least led to somewhere warm and safe, he stepped down the stairs carefully, patting the wall with his fist and holding the torch high enough to let it illuminate where he was walking. The stones were ice cold to touch and they really didn't help, but there was nothing else that he could do right now but continue on. Why the fuck had he gotten so focused on that stupid key, if all it did was lead him down _here._

Now look at him.

He glared to himself as he walked, slipping just the once and pausing to get his breath back at the mini heart-attack that that had caused. He made it down to the corridor then and stared around to see which way he should go, as it typically went both ways. Logically, one way could lead back to warmth but also to the house. The other might lead further in, or outside. Where it was cold, but _free_.

Breathing through his nose, he glanced backward over his shoulder, thinking, before taking the route that _might_ lead out.

Call him suicidal but he wasn't about to play into Loki's hands and figure that going back was the best way for him.

Not a chance in hell.

 

**_~_ **

* * *

**_~_ **

 

It really felt like he'd walked for hours after deciding to come this way, but all that he'd found was just more _stone_ corridors.

The cold was getting worse and he couldn't even feel his toes now - or anything much else for that matter. This was bad. Taking short breathes that hurt the back of his throat, he took another corner and stopped for a rest; shutting his eyes as he leant against the wall.

God, why was it was so _cold_. He knew that he was naked and that he was wet and in the dark, but still. It shouldn't be _this_ bad.

Should it?

He brought the torch closer, trying to get some warmth, when a sudden gust of wind caused the fire to flicker in his hands. He jerked upright, staring down the corridor as he tried to see just where that had come from. _Outside_ maybe. Maybe he really had found a way out, then.

Rushing forward, he almost ran toward it, but not quite - afraid that if he fell over, his light would be completely extinguished and that he'd then be alone in the dark all over again. He reached another corner by the end, though, and there was _nothing_. "But - "

What _was_ this? There had to be an ending somewhere. Or was it a maze? Or a _labyrinth_?

God, how did he get _out_.

Panting, he turned the corner he'd found and shone the light everywhere inside to see if anything was different at all. It was narrower than the others, but that was pretty much it. Nothing that led him to believe he was getting any close to a way out.

But then -

His hand skimmed over the wall as he stood there and he paused, looking down at where his fingers were splayed over the stone. It was darker there, darker than the rest of the wall, and he turned to face it fully; shining the torch nearer to see it properly.

"What the hell."

It was a hand. An outline of one, smeared into the rock from where whoever it had been attached to had been knocked backward in a blast of -

Of what? Fire? Acid?

He frowned, staring. Well, whatever it was, it had been enough to etch the outline of a person's body _into_ the wall. He slid his hand further upward, taking a step back to see more of it and he realised that it was a whole person, then.

Someone tall and lean. Someone who had been blasted backward and might even probably be _dead_ because of this. He looked at it for a lot longer than he maybe should in his state, wondering if the body had been incinerated as couldn't see any remains here, but then he lifted the torch higher and saw something else.

The hair that fanned out from the person's head in the outline was as black as the rest of it, and long. Beside it, too, there was a faint tinge of green hidden in the cracks and he sucked in a sharp breath when he realised just who it was that he was looking at.

 _Loki_ ... ?

His hand slipped off of the wall and he pressed his lips together when he realised that they'd parted. What had happened down here? Could - 

Another rush of wind suddenly hit him from behind and he hissed, spinning around quickly to try and pinpoint where it was coming from but there was still _nothing_ there. No gaps, no little cave-ins or holes. Nothing.

He turned back to the wall after another second, his eyes scanning over the outline of Loki's body, of how his hands were apart and in surrender. Of how he'd been blasted back like this.

Had he done this to _himself_ , or was this another trick? Or. More worryingly. Was there something else going on here?

Because if there was, then whatever had done this to him before, might still be down here; waiting.

He shoved the torch in front of him when a whistle of a breeze filled the corridor, almost sounding like it was whispering to him in several voices, and it blew his hair back away from his face with it's icy sting. He walked a little forward then, his eyes wide as he looked around, and a fog began to fill the corridor as he neared the other corner. Okay. This was - this was _weird_.

He needed to go.

Turning his back on it in a rush, he skid over the floor in his haste to leave and another gust easily fizzled out the only light that he had. "No - " Darkness swallowed him up then, and he froze in fear. Feeling so fucking stupid for having gotten himself into this now, and stepping back as his eyes darted everywhere to try and at least see _something_.

Maybe there wasn't even anything out there. Maybe it _was_ just the wind. Maybe Loki had been playing around with magic and had done a spell wrong and that was what had left the outline.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But regardless of whatever he was trying to think to calm himself down, fear had taken over now and he stared into the blackness before him. "Hello?" There was no answer, but really, what did he expect. Right now, he seriously felt like he was actually in the middle of a horror movie. 

And the first death scene was about to happen. 

"Loki ... ?" Nothing.

The back of his left foot scratched against the wall, and though he hissed with pain at that, he also smiled with relief and began to pat his way back. He froze again, however, at the sound of something scraping against stone to his left. Like a sword.

Or a _claw_.

He listened out for something else then, completely silent himself now and breathing heavily. He imagined growling, imagined a sudden knife shoving itself into his stomach, or some evil ghost Omega trying to kill him, but nothing like that happened.

Nothing at all.

He was just imagining it then. For God's sake, he'd obviously just watched too many horror -

Light erupted to the left of him and he cried out at the pain that it struck in his eyes, turning away from it's glare and covering his ears at the sudden unbearably loud screech, of _something_ scraping on stone, that followed it. It went on for much longer than the wind had and he screamed as he ducked, digging his fingers into his cheeks as he tried hard to muffle the sound; squeezing his eyes shut against the light but nothing helped.

And then, as soon as it had started, it stopped. He stayed where he was, breathing loudly into the silence that started up again and when he opened his eyes, it was as dark as it had been before. What the hell was happening here.

He slowly lowered his hands from his ears, blinking twice as he straightened, and he stared down the corridor toward where that light had come from.

Loki's outline was beside him again and he glanced at it once with a growing sense of apprehension. As though he knew that something was about to happen, but he had no idea what. Wind whipped at his legs and chest as he stood there, drawing his hair back and making him squint from it's intensity, gasping from it's chill. He staggered back with his arms in front of his face for protection from the dirt flying around, before there was then an eruption of ice hitting him like thousands of _knives_.

" _AH - !_ " He fell to his knees, covering his head with his arms defensively, and screaming from the pain. Somewhere - in his imagination, again, maybe? - he heard footsteps running toward him, and another body covered his; shielding him from whatever was happening so easily. He didn't even have to look up to see who it was, he could smell their scent well enough to know.

Loki.

"You fool." He was lifted up, tossed over shoulders like a sack, and then Loki was running, skidding down the corridors as the cold followed behind them; wind howling after Loki's every step.

"Wh - "

The door that Tony had found was yanked open and Loki forced his way through it - still carrying a slurring and dizzyingly cold Tony - and once it slammed shut there was nothing chasing after them there at all, anymore.

But that didn't mean that he stopped moving.

Tony must have passed out at least once, however, because he barely remembered getting back to the inside of the house and only really woke up when he was literally thrown onto his ass on cold, hard floor. "N - "

Water began hitting his back after a moment of something squeaking and hands were then all over him, rubbing and soothing and massaging. Warming him up, he realised. His teeth were chattering as he sat there, his hands shaking, and the shower that he was in wasn't doing much good. Loki was soaked to the skin behind him, pulling Tony up with his arms until his back was against his clothed chest, and he continued to rub, murmuring something under his skin that seemed to do a lot more good than the water was.

"Wh - " He couldn't speak yet - he was shaking so much, uncontrollably so, but it was dulling now at least. The pain _and_ the shock. Warmth was flooding through him and he could then finally take a breath without it hurting. "What - " He coughed into his hands, "What _was_ that thing?" He then choked, sounding pitiful even to his own ears. Loki was silent behind him, not having said a word at all since finding him down there, apart from calling him a 'fool', so maybe it had been a plan. But - that didn't seem right, somehow. Didn't make sense. "Loki. What - ? What _was_ that? Tell me."

There was another moment of silence after his question, where the water from the shower sounded agonizingly loud in contrast to their breathing together. He felt Loki shift behind him, still holding onto his frozen body so tightly, and there was only another pause before he finally murmured with a sigh:

" _That._ Was our captor." He told him.

.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is where I wait nervously for people's opinions as this is what made me so nervous.
> 
> Stew on that ending though, if you're still here to read :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in present tense because my mind has rebelled past tense for some odd reason.  
> One of the shittiest chapters I've ever written, in my opinion, and I apologize for that but I've had a case of severe writer's block and just wanted to post :(

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Tony wakes up much, much later, warmer than he probably ever has been, bundled in several blankets with four _gloves_ on his hands and even three pairs of socks over his feet. And he's also wearing - _clothes_. Possibly only to make sure that he wouldn't _die_ , but still.

_Clothes._

There's a glass of water beside the bed too, but he's wrapped up so tight that he doubts he'll even be able to grab it before it inevitably falls. But he really, _really_ wants something to drink too. _G_ _od_ , he's so thirsty. His throat feels horribly raw, like it's been stripped of a layer of skin even, and maybe it has been. The severity of the cold from - from down _there,_ has likely damaged him in some other way too. And come to think of it, he shouldn't even be _awake_ right now really. Unless it's been a lot longer than he thinks.

Or unless Loki's just taken some more liberties with his 'magic'.

Speaking of, as soon as he manages to just turn his head to one side, the door opens and the devil himself walks in, the usual hot soup in one hand. Tony immediately pretends to be asleep, his heart hammering as he struggles to remember just exactly _what_ had happened down there. Everything seems like a hot-and-cold blur, with an intense feeling of _ice_.

There had been a shadow, he remembers, or he thinks, an outline of Loki's body and -

A hand brushes the hair back from his face, the back of it then checking his temperature, and he freezes - just as his head is lifted with another; tilted back to let a spoonful of that soup down his throat. He stops himself from automatically swallowing just in time, and tries hard not to flinch as Loki's fingers massage his neck to let it go down itself. It tastes strange, like chicken but not quite, and a sedimentary texture to go along with it which almost makes him gag.

To put it simply - _yuck_. Did he _make_ this? Ew.

The fourth spoonful, he isn't so lucky and actually does cough now, turning his face away with a groan, "Hm. I was wondering how long it would take for you." What? Oh. _Oh_. Fucking dick. Pushing himself away with effort, Tony wipes a hand over his mouth, swiping any excess soup that had been magicked into tasting awful from his skin. Loki pulls aside the blankets, letting him move, and he shifts further away when he then has the freedom to; staring at him, "How are you feeling?"

"Do you - _ahem_ \- do you even care?"

"No." Setting the soup down, now no longer needing it to trick Tony awake now, Loki leans backward, folding his arms across his chest, "But there is a creature down below that does. And unfortunately for you, it is very invested in your body now." Making a face, he then adds, "You must have impressed it."

"Lucky me. ... if there even is an _it_ to impress." _That was a our captor._ Our. "You said before that it's - "

"Our captor, yes. Good to see that you were listening. I _had_ hoped I wouldn't have to repeat it." Nice to know Tony almost dying hasn't changed what a bastard he is. "Though judging from your blank stare, I think I still need to."

"My stare's _blank_ because of how _stupid_ you think I am." Glaring at him now, Tony sits up properly, "The only captor around here is _you_. Don't think a little pretend boogie-man down in the basement is going to scare me into your arms because - " His throat is squeezed by a hand before he can even move, and he freezes up entirely once again.

"If I wanted to _scare_ you, Stark, I would do it with my own face and my _own_ tricks." Still holding him, he shifts a lot closer instead, their lips almost touching, "Understand?"

" - Yep."

"Good. Now listen closely to me because this is the _only_ time I can say it to you. There is a creature down there older than time - "

"Y - " Loki shakes him.

" _So_ old that not even _I_ have heard of it. And for reasons that I cannot say, it needs you and it needs me. And now that is _has_ us, our little game of cat-and-mouse is going to barely seem like - "

" _Rape_ is cat-and-mouse - ?" Tony rasps out, but he's shook again before anything else can be said.

"You _impressed_ it Stark. With your stubbornness and with your heart. And believe me when I tell you that that is not something you want for yourself in this house." Finally released, Tony darts back, breathing in slowly to try and regain what oxygen he'd lost just then, rubbing at his neck ruefully.

When he figures out what to say, however, he doesn't waste any time in spitting it out, "I don't believe you."

"Do what you wish," Is the typical reply, and then Loki's standing, "But do not go down there again. At least - not alone."

" _You're_ the one who gave me a fucking key, moron. If you're trying to ... " Trailing off immediately at the look on Loki's face, Tony pauses, staring at him. And then, abruptly, as though he knew it always deep down, he thinks about it a little more and he _knows_ that it's true, "Oh God. I - that thing was in the _room?_ " When he was _sleeping_. " ... It - wasn't it." Why the hell is he even asking anyway, it's not like he'll get a straight answer. "Look no more games. Just - "

"Get some rest Stark." For _fuck's_ sake!

" _Please_!" Loki pauses, in the motion of leaving, or even just putting Tony to sleep again, "I just want answers. That's _it_."

"Really." Giving him a smile that had none of it's usual smugness, Loki raises an eyebrow, "I thought you wanted freedom."

"Well - yeah, ass-hat, obviously." Bunching the blankets around him feels useless now that he has clothes. They're long on him, huge and billowing, and he really hopes that they didn't use to belong to one of the dead Omega's around here. He'd rather go naked. "But I mean, like right _now_. This is what I want right _now_."

"If you want answers, I cannot hel - "

Tony slams his hand down onto the mattress, rising onto his knees, "Dammit Loki! Just tell me everything, what the fuck is the _deal_ with this?!" He darts back at the slightest twitch from him, the anger draining into fear all over again and he quickly pushes his hair from his eyes when it flops down, wanting to see everything clearly enough to anticipate another strangling attack, "If it's not you doing this, then why not just tell me? Why shove me around like this, was it fun for you or - ?"

"Get. Some. _Rest_ , Stark." Tony sinks into the mattress, shrinking in on himself at that tone. Alpha, his brain supplies, and he hates it so much that he almost tries to hurt himself by rebelling. He's done it before, and has been sick afterward obviously too, but right now he can't be bothered to go through with it. "I will tell you everything when you are less hysterical."

He's not _hysterical_. "No you won't." Loki ignores that, turning to leave again, with a sigh. Tony almost lets him go before - "Wait. Um. ... what's with the clothes? I'm not exactly ice _cold_ anymore."

Looking back at him over his shoulder before he opens the door, Loki just glances down for just a second, answering softly enough that it's almost to himself, "Keep them. You know the truth now." And then he's gone.

The truth. Tony scoffs. What the hell even _is_ the truth with a guy like Loki.

Slamming himself backward over the bed, he rubs his hands down his face, staring up at the ceiling before shooting them up again and pretending to write through the air. Writing's always helped him think and with no paper and pen present right now, imagination is going to have to do.

So here goes.

-

 **Fact no.1:** **Loki is an Alpha who bonded with me and has kept me captive in this house for however long it's been. [Days have been lost due to unconsciousness and heat sickness.]**

**Fact no.2: This house used to hold Omegas captive for experimentation and there are still dead bodies all over the place because of it. One of the workers is hanging on the second floor, suicide for whatever reason? Could be important.**

**Fact no.3: There are still breedonistic Alphas that live around here, down below the house. No escape seems possible because of them.**

**Fact no.4: Loki seems to hurt himself sometimes, unexplained actions, put aside to focus on escaping but now that it's thought upon properly, it's really fucking ... _odd_. The electrocution has noticeably been the strangest. **

**Fact no.5: There is something in the basement.**

**Opinion no.1: That something is Loki messing with me to try and scare me into his arms. Aka, old fashioned Alpha ploys. Didn't work with Stane, isn't going to work with him.**

**Opinion no.2: That something really _is_ real and really is their captor. And if it is, what then?**

**-**

And that's the question, really. What then? Because if Loki actually _isn't_ the one behind this, but some other  _thing_ is, then what is he supposed to do about it? Sit here and play puppet?

Okay. Well first of all he needs more information first, he needs the truth, he needs some fucking  _sanity_ too. Jesus. 

His hands suddenly seem blurry the longer he stares at them before he then remembers to actually _blink_ and everything finally clears. He just needs to think. _Think._ He's a genius, Omega or not, so fucking _think_.

What would this mean for him?

He's never hated anyone as much as he's hated Loki, all these past days stuck in this house, but if he's just a puppet in this affair then where does that all anger get directed to instead? Loki's something he can _hit_ , stab at even, verbally accuse and shout at, but that thing down there had only had to send a spear of cold toward him and he was out completely. What can he do now, if that's the truth? What is he against that thing? If this is all real, then he's stuck. More so than before, because -

Well, if _Loki's_ a prisoner, and _Loki_ hasn't escaped yet, then ... he's got no chance at all.

  
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* * *

**The Triskelion:**

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"Jesus. Don't make me regret allowing you in here Rhodes, I gave you access for a short while only yeah, but that doesn't mean I want it abused."

"That access was just to humor me, Barton, I knew that from the start." So Tony'd taught him about SHIELD then. And taught him well too. "I don't want your access, anyway, and I don't need your agents to tell me when I'm wrong. What I _need_ is a loophole."

"Yeah, and Nat's looking every day, you know that. Now get the hell out of here before I actually bother to get rid of you properly." Rhodes just stares him down. "Look. Loki, as we _know_ the asshole, did his research. We can't do anything without any serious repercussions and as soon as you want billions on your conscious, you let me know, but until then, we're taking it one step at a time."

"It's been two _months_ already. How long do you expect Tony to just stay with the guy?"

"Well if he hadn't let himself get fucking _bonded_ , there wouldn't be a problem." Shut up Clint, you're going too far, "You're his guardian Alpha aren't you? Shouldn't you have been with him when he was in heat?" Never mind, put your foot in your mouth, it's fine.

"Tony can take care of himself." Rhodes spits out, glaring now.

"Well obviously he _can't_ , can he." Okay. That's a little unfair too, seeing as he'd gone up against Loki once himself and hadn't come out so well either. He hadn't _bonded_ , despite being an Omega himself as well, but still. "He had the suppressants with him, why didn't he use them?"

"Steve found them lying next to a drain outside the event. Either he'd dropped them, which he'd _never_ do, or someone came at him from behind." Sitting down a little briskly, Rhodes sighs, taking off his hat to run his hand down the back of his head, "How Loki did it or why he did, isn't giving us anything though. That loophole needs to come and it needs to come fast. I can't guarantee how long Tony's armor can be postponed from being handed over as government property and Fury's not even helping with that."

"He can't. Loki's the one who agreed, as Tony's _Alpha_ , to get Senators on his side so Fury can't act. We are working on stopping it, though, so don't worry." There's a scoff. "Look Rhodes, Tony's _our_ friend too, you know. You think I _want_ him stuck somewhere with that asshole? We're _working_ on it, okay, and we'll get him out. Law or no law." Shrugging, he tamps down on that sudden anger, letting out a slow exhale, "Besides. Breaking laws is Nat's specialty, so trust me. She'll get something."

"Right." Dropping his hand from his head now, Rhodes glances down, "Sorry. I didn't - you're right. We're all working on it."

"Yeah. And speaking of, any luck finding Tony's forms?" All he needs is a look to tell him what he already knows, " _Damn_ that prick. He was thorough, I'll give him that, but - "

"But it doesn't exactly help us with any of this." Sitting in silence seems to be the appropriate response after that and Clint turns back to the screen that he's meant to be analyzing information from. Another distraction arises when the double doors slide open behind them both and Natasha walks inside, one of her favorite folders under arm. "You know, when we get Tony back, he's going to rail on you for not using those tablets he made."

"I like holding folders. It makes me feel important." Rhodes smiles behind his hat as he puts it back on, turning to face her once he's impeccable again. "And anyway, that ' _when_ ', is hopefully about to get a little more likely."

Hold up. "What do you mean?" The screen switches off when Clint waves a hand above it, spinning in his chair to try and snag at the folder, missing when Natasha's hands are faster, "You found a loophole?"

"Better." Opening it up now, she displays the pages that she'd been looking for lately, spreading out articles of Omega and Alpha partnerships, laws and acts, letters from the Omega-O-O-O, and so on, "I found an _opening_."

Rhodes picks at one of the sheets, scanning over the picture of a beaten Omega teen, the sort of arousal crime that had still been pretty common when he'd been growing up; the report says that the girl had died, and the Alphas responsible had actually been imprisoned. Rare, but refreshing to hear about. "A government error?"

"No. One from _Loki_ , actually." Clint snaps his head up at that, leaning closer, "He's Asgardian, so our laws shouldn't be too familiar to him, which is why he's put in so much obvious research into all this. But not enough, fortunately for us. According to the Omega-O-O-O, suspected forced bonding and abuse can be put to trial and can even cause the bond to be physically separated if it's deemed unhealthy."

Rhodes blinks, "When the hell did _that_ come into action?"

"About January time."

"Alright," Clint murmurs, thumbing through some other articles, "So we just go to court, and - "

"Already done. I did this all the second week Tony was taken."

"Well why the fuck didn't you tell _us_?"

"I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up until I had something we could use." They both look at her expectantly, "The Supreme Court has seen the case and all the judges have decreed that the bond be looked at properly. According to the evidence given, it's abusive and forced, but they need to see it for themselves apparently. They've been warned about Loki's magic and so on, already, and I've got them under surveillance to make sure he doesn't try anything. Odin's watching out too, so I doubt he'll kill anyone trying to break the bond."

"Will he even come though? We haven't seen him since he bonded with Tony at all, so  _will_ he even come here?"

"Let's hope not." Rubbing at her forehead, she sits herself down opposite them, "There _is_ still a problem though. It's what I've been working on recently."

"What?" Rhodes asks her, tense all over again, but it's Clint that answers; rubbing at his head with the exact same motion.

"We still have no clue where Loki and Tony even _are_. The judges can't do anything unless they see 'em, so until _we_ find 'em, neither can we."

_Dammit.  
_

Rhodes scrunches his chin in his hand, leaning on his elbow and letting out a sharp exhale of frustration. Clint opens his mouth to offer what little comfort he can give before a thud draws their attention.

"I believe," All three of them glance up at the open balcony window, watching as Thor steps through it with as solemn a face as they've ever seen him have, "That I can help you with that problem."

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**The living room:**

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Loki is sat over the same chair that he's usually in, wine bottles gone but a full glass still in hand.

He doesn't even look up when Tony walks in. "If you faint again, I will leave you where you lie." After that, he takes a sip, closing his eyes.

"I feel fine, actually." His head does ache a little, but at least he hasn't got frostbite so really, he came out pretty well with all that considered, "No fainting." He's ignored, and that bites. "Okay. I give."

"Excuse me?"

"Let's just ... say I believe you. For arguments sake. Why _me_ , if that's the case?" The glass is set down when Loki sighs. "Why would it want me and _you_ together?"

 _"This_ question again?" Worded differently, but whatever, yes. The same question. Why bond with Tony? "I know the answer, Stark, but I cannot tell you."

"Why not?"

"For the same reason why I have not told you of any of this, of why most of what you know you have discovered yourself so I cannot be blamed for any of it. I am forbidden."

Tony narrows his eyes at him, "You're not the kind of guy who follows orders, Loki, if you want me to believe you, you're going to have to - "

"I truly don't care if you believe me or not, Stark, it won't help and it won't change things at all either way. So does it really matter?" He's slurring. Just a little, not enough to be really noticeable, but he is. The glass is picked up again.

"I want to believe you." Loki pauses, his breath painting the glass' rim with fog, "But I don't at the same time. I saw that thing, and I don't know if it was you, or something _real_ , and I half don't want to know either, but if there really is something else going on here that has _you_ captive as well, then trust me. You'll need my help getting us out."

The fog evaporates when Loki chuckles once, softly, "There is no getting out, Stark."

Glaring at him, Tony turns on his heel, "There's always a way out." Unless you just like to get drunk and sit there wallowing, that is. But in his experience, being kept prisoner is always something temporary for him. And whether it's Loki or some other big bad doing it all, he'll get out.

He just has to remember that.

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**Avengers tower:  
**

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Thor's head snaps to one side at the punch that he's given, and while it probably doesn't hurt, he still shuts his eyes and turns away. A wordless apology and a tell that he knows he did wrong.

"Tell us what you know." Natasha orders, her arms folded across her chest, "And stop prattling on about how you swore to your brother you wouldn't."

Clint rubs his knuckles in response, sat next to Steve while Rhodes hangs behind them all.

Turning his head again, to face them now, Thor's eyes slide open and he hangs his head, "I gave Loki my word that I would not give the location to anyone else, in return for seeing Anthony _alive_." Clint braces for a punch again, pulling his arm back, but then - "However." Thor smiles, meeting Natasha's gaze, "He never stated that I could not _lead_ anyone there instead."

 

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	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So soo sorry for the long wait! D:

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It's - more than a little odd to see Loki sleep. A little like watching Hitler, or even Stalin taking a nap right in front of you.

Or, to be a little more accurate, a dragon.

Wine bottles are scattered almost everywhere, a glass still in the guy's hand, and he's even _snoring_. Just slightly. Like the thrum of a good engine under feet, but still. Huh.

Tony steps into the room as quietly as he can with the mood he's in, glancing around at the statues and the table that hadn't been broken when he'd left but now ... well. Loki's clearly always had a bit of a temper.

Against his better judgement, he comes closer, even going as far as to sitting over the sofa that Loki's lying on; just to stare down at him. He's practically cradling a bottle as a pillow - which is five different kinds of pathetic - and Tony resists the urge to pull it out from under his head just to see what he'll do.

"... you really are a sorry son of a bitch, aren't you." In his sleep, Loki frowns, turning his head further into the bottle until it squishes his cheek against it and - Okay. That's kinda funny - to see someone usually so aloof act this way; albeit asleep, "How did Thor ever put up with you?"

"I put up with him." The bottle rolls and clatters to the ground when Loki stirs, cracking an eye open to look up at Tony, "And after his visit here, I doubt it will ever be a problem again."

"Lucky you." Shuffling back, Tony only tugs at his hair, slouching and watching the Hansel statue instead of just who he's sitting beside. He also inwardly rewards himself for not flinching back at Loki waking so close to him, optimistically hoping that he's finally getting over whatever fears his time in heat had given him. And with that in mind, he irrationally decides to try and bait his captor. "You know, he's always stood by you. Against all of us. Defending you, helped you. And you can't even bother to feel the same can you, you _sad_ little- "

"Spare me. I have heard it all and _more,_ and I have never actually cared."

Tony doesn't even bother giving him a look of disgust, though he does at least scoff, "Yeah. Thought so." He half expects Loki to then ask him why he'd even bothered saying it then, but all he really gets is a lot more drinking and an annoyingly protruding silence. And that - _stings_. Because after everything he's done to Tony, doesn't he at least owe him some goddamn _conversation_? "But come on, it _must_ hurt. At least a little, right?" He blurts out after only a few minutes, glaring, "Your big brother's been by your side all this time and now he hates your guts? I mean, I'm an only child so I don't know how it - "

The wine bottle in Loki's hands suddenly shatters, and Tony raises his arms automatically to stop any of the pieces of flying glass from hitting his face or eyes, lurching back whilst Loki just sits there; staring into at a single spot on the wall. His brief burst of anger does effectively shut Tony up though, so without a word, he stands from the sofa slowly and steps out of the room; leaving Loki behind and alone with whatever thoughts he's having.

Hopefully, it's guilt, but with how things seem to go around here, that's probably highly unlikely.

 

-

 

The hole is in exactly the same place that Tony remembers it being, right before he'd fallen through it.

He refuses to jump right in again, however much he wants answers, for several reasons. One of them being the fact that he'd almost _died_ after plunging right into a vat of below-freezing cold water and then trying to find a way out in the chilling surroundings as well. Not to mention, he'd been naked at the time. Clothes might help a little, but not too much, and even if they do - he isn't going down _there_ again.

Ever.

The corridor is as dark as it had been the first time that he'd ventured further down it, and he holds onto the wall a lot firmer than he had before, watching his step and listening out to any of the tell-tale creaks that had occurred last time. But standing over the only other entrance that he knows to the below section isn't exactly going to help him, anyway, so all this risk is pretty pointless. With that in mind, he leaves it behind, turning his back on it to try and feel his way back toward the candle-light ahead instead, and to maybe -

Before he even takes a step forward, a light flashes behind him, from within the hole. Similar to an electric torch's light, even, and he freezes.

It can't be.

Spinning back around to stare down at it, he falls to his knees at it's edge, digging his fingers into the wood to make sure that he doesn't slide any further than he already has, " _Hello?"_ His voice echoes, a little eerily too, but nothing answers it back to him. And the torch's light putters out. "Hello? Is anyone down there?" His skin prickles when his imagination warns him off letting whatever's down there know that he's not far off, but logic overcomes it. "... Thor?"

Nothing.

He must sit there for at least ten minutes, listening out and looking through the dark for any indication of that same light, before he eventually realises that it must have just been the reflection of the wires in the candle-light, shining in his eye and making him see things. His limbs creak as he stands, and this time, he doesn't look back again.

No point in getting his hopes up.

**_~_ **

 

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  ** _ **Severton, Alabama** :_**

* * *

 

**_~_ **

"How the hell did no one ever know about this place?" Stepping over the railing separating the old, abandoned highway road from the dirt-track, Steve stumbles just the once, catching his balance before anyone notices. Unfortunately, Clint catches his eye and raises an eyebrow. He clears his throat, "Shouldn't SHIELD monitor locations like this?"

"We have no reason to," Natasha murmurs, following after him with her eyes fixed on the horizon, as though expecting a car other than theirs to actually bother coming down here again, "After the murders in 1900, this place became a real life horror show and anyone still living here moved up and out." Looking down at the villages below them, she pauses, "It's probably why a facility like this ever had such a long time running without anyone stopping it. No one comes down here anymore. It's even crossed off of maps."

"Must have been a _bad_ couple of murders," Rhodes adds, grimly, wearing civilian clothes now, instead of his usual uniform.

"Over 800,000." Natasha agrees. "I think America just wanted the history gone, though you can still find it on fanatic pages over the internet, and on SHIELD's old database."

"Like I said. The country's seen and done a lot worse, with higher numbers," Giving her a look now, he narrows his eyes, "They must have been _bad_."

Stepping over the railing, last of all, Clint shrugs at him, "The bodies were mutilated and hung over building signs, while children were burned from the inside out with chemicals, and half the villages ended up eating the others after slaughtering the shit out of them with machete's and kitchen knives. And that's just the first 13% of the descriptions." Natasha glances at him, "What? I did research before we came. This place is apparently haunted."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Steve adds, looking down at the villages as well, his expression dark. "Let's hope that Tony's okay in a place like this."

"Let's hope that he doesn't even _know_ that he's in a place like this." After a moment, Clint realises how that must have sounded, and he grimaces, "I didn't mean - "

"Where's Thor?" Natasha interrupts before he can dig his hole any deeper, missing Banner's pacifistic attitude already, but then - she'd been one of the first to agree with his staying behind anyway, "He said he'd fly out here and meet us first."

Rhodes points, "Maybe he's down there already."

-

The way down is a lot steeper than it had looked from the car and most of them end up with their hands littered with scrapes by the time they make it to the edge.

When they each step forward as one, however, they automatically come to the same conclusion, "It's empty."

"Did we come to the wrong place?" Clint asks Natasha, watching as she takes out her cell to check with the satellite signal that she's been tracing, "Nat?"

"This is the place Thor gave me directions to."

"Well maybe you made a mistake." She gives him a look, "Or - not."

Tapping the screen with her forefinger's nail, she frowns, looking up at the village again only to startle back just as Thor appears from behind the nearest building, "Oh."

"You have arrived." Walking to meet them, he lowers his hammer, in civilian clothing as well though his doesn't make him look any less foreboding, "Good. We must hurry, before Loki realises that we are here." He walks back to where he'd come from then, and they follow him together, still more than a little wary as the further into the village they go, the more empty it seems.

"Guess it's the right place then." Clint mutters to himself, before suddenly jumping forward a step to nudge Natasha, "Hey." She blinks, following his gaze, and halting just as he does. After a few steps after them, Steve notices and turns to face them.

"Guys?"

"This place isn't empty." Clint tells them, his eyes darting over the open door that he'd noticed.

"He's right," Gesturing toward it, Natasha explains, "There are signs all over of people still living here, as subtly as they can so no one notices, but it's still there." Steve hefts his shield, "No, don't worry about it. You all follow Thor to the house. I'll take a look around first, see what I can find out around here, and then I'll meet you."

"I'll stay too." Clint offers but she only shoves him toward Rhodes instead, "Hey - "

"No." Pinning him with her gaze, she lifts her two stinger gloves out of the bag she'd brought along, "If Loki's in there, they'll need your arrows. Even if we aren't allowed to attack him, we can still defend ourselves, so go. I'll be fine."

"Nat - "

"Clint, you're an _Omega_." He flinches. "Do you honestly think that whoever's living here won't be someone that _agrees_ with whatever went on in that place?"

Ducking his head, he grits his teeth, before pulling out an oblong-shaped box and tossing it into her hand. "Use that then. Tony made it for me last year. It only works on Alphas, so watch yourself when it's sprayed." She glares, handing it back but he refuses, "Don't worry. I've got a spare." Leaving her behind now, he runs to catch up with the others - who had walked further ahead to give them some space.

Her hand closes over the box before it's then clipped to her boot's strap for safe-keeping. Her stingers are then fastened on and she walks into the open doorway.

 

~

 

"So I've always wanted to ask." Rhodes tells Clint, just as they approach the house. "Are you two - ?"

"Don't."

"Bonded?" Clint rolls his eyes, shaking his head in 'no', "Really? But there is something there right?" Another head shake, "So you're just friends? Or is there at least some tension going on because - "

"God. You really _are_ friends with Tony, aren't you - " Steve shushes them with a gesture before Rhodes can answer though, and they immediately focus on what they're doing, watching as Thor touches the handle to the door. The house is a lot creepier than it had looked in the SHIELD pictures, close-up and in person, and from the looks of it, it's as heavily abandoned as everything else is around here. "And no." Clint quietly adds, "No tension, no nothing. We're just close." Rhodes looks at him, "God honest truth." Making a face, he then says, "I mean, seriously. I could never be in a relationship with someone _that_ protective and - "

"Clint." Steve snaps, "Come on." Blinking out of it, he nods, lifting a hand to finger over the end of one of his arrows with his receded bow already in his other one, but nothing much seems to happen to Thor or Steve when they enter the now-open house together.

As soon as he steps inside himself, however, clouds of dust clog his senses and he chokes, gagging over the smell of rot and damp; waving a hand in front of his face to drive it away, "Fuck - that _stinks_." There's a murmur of agreement from the others, before -

"... I do not understand." Thor murmurs in front of him and when he finally looks up, all he can see is the charred lobby to what must have once been a magnificent house, with a broken and splintered staircase and shattered windows. It must have caught fire, then, years ago by the looks of it, "This is not - "

"What's wrong?"

"I was here but a few days ago," Thor tells them, earnestly, sounding incredibly confused, "This - this house did _not_ look this way." Stepping into the light from the sun, pouring through the cracked open windows above, he cuts a hand through the air, as though expecting it all to be a hologram, "He _cannot_ have moved on so soon. Anthony was - " Clenching his hands, he spins on his feet to face them, looking a lot angrier than they've ever really seen him before.

"... Thor?"

" _Loki_." Is the murderously sounding answer, "He has cloaked this house, somehow, to hide it's true doors and exits from us. We must enter it another way, or else - " From behind them all, the door suddenly creaks, shaking just the once before slamming itself shut and bolted. " _No_."

Rhodes immediately rushes to the handle, yanking on it, kicking the frame. Nothing. Clint's arrows could probably penetrate it but - Steve throws his shield right at the key-hole, and it bounces back, almost taking off it's owners head on the rebound - if they bounce back as well, they're all dead.

"Damn." Turning to look at Thor, he releases his arrows, putting his bow away for just a moment, "Looks like it's just onwards and outwards then."

Glaring at the door, Thor grips his hammer, but obviously decides against it should something else happen. Which is - good. At least he's thinking outside of 'hammer, obstacle, smash' nowadays. "Aye." Still glaring, he turns back to the stairs, "Whether the door is hidden or not, Anthony is still within this house, somewhere. And we shall find him."

"Do you remember how you found him before?" Steve asks, holding onto his shield again.

"Loki lead me to the room he was sleeping in," The stairs give under his feet, so in the end, they all attempt climbing the bannisters instead, "But I am sure I can find it again."

"Good. Because - "

"Wait, hang on!" Clint suddenly calls up to them, "What about Nat?" Another look at the door, and Steve shakes his head, making him sigh, "I knew she shouldn't have stayed behind. Why can't she ever think ahead?" Lie. She always thinks ahead.

Putting a hand on his shoulder, Rhodes uses the grip to both help him up to the bannister and to give comfort, "She'll be okay."

"Yeah." He still gives the door the dirtiest look that he can muster, though, before reaching for the bannister as well, scrambling to -

A gust of air from behind him sends him sprawling backward and he lands on an arm with a grunt, his quiver unclasping from the fall and clattering beside him. "Ah - "

"Clint, you okay?" From about seven steps above him now, Rhodes holds onto the banister with just the one hand and tries to make his way down again to help him up.

"Yeah I'm fine." Groaning, he tries to sit up with a wince, "Just slipped." Standing again takes a little more effort, and from the feel of it, his thighs are bruised, but it's nothing too bad. He's handled a _lot_ worse, really. "Ow. Hey, Rhodes, watch it coming down, you - " Without the slightest movement or warning, Rhodes, Thor and Steve are all suddenly - _gone_.

He blinks, staring, looking around before he realises that _he's_ the one that had disappeared, not them. "Wha - ?"

And that's when he feels the cold.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not Natasha/Clint. Sorry to any who like that pairing <33


	19. Chapter 19

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* * *

.

"Clint!"

Steve lands just a few centimetres from where Clint had just vanished, his hand reaching out to see whether or not he's still standing somewhere around there, just unseen, but there was nothing. "Where did he _go?_ How - ?" Turning to face Thor, he glares, "Your brother sets booby traps now?"

"We shall have to be careful," Frowning darkly, Thor joins him, spreading his own hands out as well, but with the same amount of luck as Steve, "If my brother knows we are here also, then he will not harm Clint. He knows my anger can be far greater when I am craving vengeance."

"It's never stopped him before." Rhodes adds, still at the seventh step, hanging on and watching as they both continued to try and see if Clint's still around there somewhere. Invisible maybe.

Steve, though the face that he makes after that only shows his agreement, sighs, "No. Thor's right." Dropping his hands, he gives the area one more look, "We'll just have to be more careful, and look around this place. Clint's obviously not here, and even if we could scan for him with some of Tony's tech, finding out how to get him back is more important." Walking back toward the stairs, he pauses to place a hand on Thor's arm, "And that means finding _Loki_ , as well as Tony."

"Aye."

 

**_~_ **

* * *

**_~_ **

 

The first experimentation room that Tony had found, what seems like _weeks_ ago now, hasn't even been re-locked at all and still swings open at his touch.

He steps inside more cautious than anything, slowly, looking around over whatever there is here and covering his nose with a sleeve - now that he actually _has_ one - swallowing when all he can see are the bodies from before; still laid out, mutilated, _bloody_ -

But he needs answers.

The names are still there, and this time, instead of skimming over for those that he'd once recognised and known, he counts them to see just how many there are. Scanning the sheet with his eyes, he clumps groups of names together, multiplies the stacks, and finally gets to around 132. Which - isn't what he'd been expecting, really. He'd expected a lot more, considering what he's seen around here, so maybe _these_ are the 'special' Omegas that Mackeltry had mentioned.

The ones that, apparently like _him_ , have a particular scent. But then - he'd said that they had only ever had 6 of them. So that can't be right.

Unless -

Turning toward one of the two bodies over the gurneys, Tony bites down over his bottom lip, sucking in a breath and sliding himself closer, taking it all extremely slow. Omegas can pick up scents of their own, if they press close enough. It's never even  _near_ enough to what an _Alpha_ would experience, but there's meant to at least be a faint tint of it in either the armpit, neck, or lower-half of the body.

So maybe he can tell for himself. Because he really doesn't see Loki coming up here just to smell a corpse for him.

Okay.

All he needs to then is look, or _smell_ , past the stench of decay and see what he can sense for himself; hopefully he can do it without gagging.

Unfortunately, the closer that he gets, the more mangled the bodies seem and once he uncovers the nearest's head and shoulders from the white cloth above, he has to physically step back to recover. God. Okay.

Lower half it is then.

Gulping in some back-up fresh air to brace himself, he clenches his fists, slowly going down to his knees and pulling the body's own knee down toward him as well, leaving whatever else there is still intact covered by the cloth. It's skin is cold in his hands, and he shivers involuntarily despite reaching out for it anyway, before finally managing to draw in enough self-confidence to press his nose into the back of the corpse's knee.

Holding it there, he gags for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut and shuddering all the while, but still refusing to back away. Not yet.

Come on, come on. Where's the smell -

He gags again, turning away for just a second for some real air, before trying just the one last time. But no. Still nothing.

"Ugh." Shoving himself backward, he makes himself lift the leg back up as gently as he can, wishing not for the first time that he could find a way to bury them all and stop the ugly display of their murdered bodies, but with how isolated and trapped he is himself right now, there's not much that he can really do. But then. He can at least cover them back up again, just as they'd been ... before.

Wait.

Of all the corpses that he's seen so far, these two are one of the only ones that have been covered by something. It can't be to halt their decay, because yes, while the room and their skin is cold, decomposition is still well underway. Unless - it isn't the  _bodies_ that are what's being stored.

A creak from above makes a prophet out of him and he stares - frozen - as the corpse's hands suddenly fall from the gurney when there's movement beneath the cloth. Some sort of olden mechanism over it's chest - still hidden by the cloth - begins to rotate then, spilling over a _bucket_ -full's worth of blood all over him.

"Shi - !" He jerks backward, choking at the smell and the sensation of it running down his skin, wiping his face only to just get more of the blood over him as it slides into his eyes and his open mouth and - "N - " He staggers to his feet, watching as the pot rotates back again, now empty. It's - _cold_ , as well. Freezing even.

Just as the bodies are.

Being stored. For further use. For further _tests_.

And now it's all over him, sticking his hair to his forehead, running down his skin, pressing his clothes down and dying them a dark, dark red. Oh God. Abruptly, he's reminded of the several dozen nightmares of _blood_ that he'd had when he'd first heard of his parent's death, and with that springing to mind, he practically bolts for the shower.

"Fuck. Fuck - "

Shivering, his hands leave bloody prints on every other thing that he touches, and the water runs red for a moment with the taps skimming over him. He turns them on full, finds a plug and _jams_ it into the drain, waiting impatiently as the water rises to the edge before shutting it off and peeling his soaking, blood-stained clothes off. Quickly.

The water's clean blue shade vanishes as soon as he steps inside and he wraps his arms around his knees, wiping vigorously over them to get rid of every bit of that blood _,_ "You didn't kill them. They were already dead. You didn't kill them, you didn't. They were already dead, already - " His face itches until he dunks it in, panicky, high keens echoing over the marble, and he jolts violently - trying hard to forget the feeling of it all pouring over onto him. " _Fuck_."

Standing, he inspects his body twice before then unplugging the tub and letting the water go. Stains still stick to the yellowish marble, though, only sliding away when he splashes water from the open tap over them, and he refills the tub once it's clean again; sitting back into it with a choked-off whimper.

_Blood is bond Anthony, and no matter how much you want to hate me, you -_

Mom -

_We're sorry Mr Stark. But your father's will is ready to be -_

_Celebutante Tony Stark has been off radar ever since his parents -_

He buries his face into the gap between his drawn-up knees, keeping his eyes open and wide as he struggles to get over what had just happened.

All over him. From someone long, _long_ dead.

_They were already dead. Nothing you could do. It's just blood, just blood -_

In the water gathering in his lap, he suddenly sees the reflection of the corpse looking back up at him, making him fling himself away - hitting the wall hard enough for him to cry out.

And after that, he just sits there. Shaking.

 

**_~_ **

* * *

**_~_ **

 

Clint slams his shoulder into the door again and again, but after about five minutes of this, he's pretty close to giving up.

His bruises have bruises and as far as he can tell, there's no other way out of this house without at least some heavy explosives, and even then, the rebound'll probably kill him. " _Dammit."_

His first disappearance from before, he'd found himself stuck in the dark for about a moment with an unnerving chill that he couldn't quite pinpoint, before suddenly being popped right back where he'd started. Sans the others.

And when calling out for his teammates, who are otherwise _misplaced_ now, hadn't done anything he'd resorted to trying to barge his way out with next to no results at all. Call him paranoid, or a horror fanatic, but he didn't really want to wander around on his own in a house like this either. But it doesn't look like he's much choice. Trying the door one last time, totally not panicking, he growls out his frustration, and turns toward the stairs. Right.

Onward and upward, as he'd said before.

Making his way up the broken stairs isn't as hard as he'd thought it would be and he at least doesn't slip over again, though now that he puts a little more thought into it, he's not entirely certain that that fall is completely due to his own clumsiness. Quite a coincidence to have him slam right down into a spot far enough from the others that neither of them could reach him when he'd 'vanished'. He makes it quickly enough, and scans the area with his eyes before even taking a step forward.

Upstairs, there's only the one floor as far as he can tell and he notices that there must have once been carpet covering the surrounding wooden floorboards as the smell of charred fabric mixes in with that of moulded wood. To his left is a bathroom, small with a sealed in but intact window, and a locked/jammed adjacent door.

Empty.

The other rooms that he then looks around in are the same. Small, with either a bed or a cupboard or both, but with no Tony, Loki or his team. And - that's it. Looking down the tiny corridor, he doesn't see much else to look inside, and there isn't a lot going on downstairs either. But that ... that can't be right, can it.

Natasha had said - and the SHIELD _records_ had as well - that this place had once been an old Omega experimentation facility, and judging from it's size from outside there should at least be a dozen more rooms. Labs, cells, offices. Not just _bedrooms_ and a freaking toilet. This doesn't make sense.

Taking out his cell from his sleeve's pocket, he pulls up the SHIELD database quickly. Or - at least - tries to.

_Error. Wifi undetected. Stark-net undetected._ _No service available._

Perfect.

He sighs, shaking the cell in annoyance before simply shoving it back into his pocket and looking around all over again. There has to be something. A catch maybe, old-school style, that can lead him toward the real rooms of the place, but each door opens wide to his hand and doesn't reveal anything. No hidden locks, or doors or bookcases with hardback copy levers. Nothing.

He glares at the air, hating the fact that he's alone in what's probably a game for Loki right now. "Cap?!" No answer, " _Tony?!"_ His imagination conjures Tony's voice calling out to him, which is really what he'd like to hear, but in reality there's nothing. He hadn't expected to miss the guy this much, and he hasn't so far - knowing that it would have broken his focus from trying to get him back - but now that he's in the place Tony's apparently holed up in, that urge to see him okay returns tenfold and he immediately walks with a far more quicker pace throughout the rooms; for a third time now.

And yet, he still comes up with squat. "Tony, if you can hear me, give me a sign!" Silence. He almost slams his fist into the nearest wall in his anger, before remembering what Thor had said before. That he'd seen Tony okay, in a room upstairs. A bedroom. But each of these rooms are empty and there aren't any others around, which can only mean -

He clenches his hands into fists, turning toward the stairs again, "Loki, you fucking bastard," Glaring to himself now, he steps back the way he'd come, "You think separating us like this will make a difference, huh. How'd you do it? Dimensional whatsits, or what?" He practically stomps his way back now, "Well if you're hearing this, then you can suck my 'inferior' - _ah!"_ The wood beneath his shoes, already broken beyond repair, suddenly gives after only a slight _crrrik_ for warning - sending him flying backward through the floors between.

He lands, hard, on something spongy - leathery even - and rolls off of it with a groan, laying beside what can only be a sofa's legs, "Wow, okay - _ow_." He manages to stand with only the one wince, staggering to his feet and slipping backward in a tottering fight for balance; catching himself on the hand on a statue.

Hansel and Gretel from the looks of it when he turns to stare down at them. "Thanks for the save." He murmurs, struggling to hold onto his dry sense of humor in this sort of situation, but doing okay nonetheless. Running a hand through his hair, his fingers brush over a bleeding cut, but it's nothing too major so he only ignores it and spins back around to take in the new room that he's discovered instead.

Before freezing up entirely.

Right in front of him, sitting on another sofa in the centre of the room, nursing a glass of what looks like _wine_ but could even be blood, is Loki. " _You_ \- " Clint has his bow and a single, straight-lined arrow in hand before a thought even goes into it, and he aims immediately, "So this is where you've been hiding, huh." Maybe it isn't such a good idea to make his presence known, but hey. If falling through the roof hadn't done it, then nothing else will make a difference.

Loki, however, doesn't even look up. Just takes a good, look sip of his wine. "Hey! I'm _talking_ at you, jackass!" Still. Nothing. " _Fine_." Firing his arrow, the point flies straight for Loki's forehead, shoots right  _through_ his forehead and hits the wall behind with a clatter. Loki sets his wine down with a sigh, "What - ?" Reloading it, Clint decides on an electric arrow now to see if Loki could deflect a shock from it instead, but the same thing happens. The shock doesn't even administer, which lets him know that this isn't a clone. It's the real deal. 

So why isn't it _working_?

Loki stands, making Clint flinch back automatically, but he only walks right past him toward the wall at the far end. Like - like he doesn't even see him. He narrows his eyes, watching, but after years of body language detecting and with that time that he'd spent as Loki's lackey, he prides himself on knowing when a person is truly relaying a pretend scenario. And right now ... he doesn't think Loki's in the mood for pretending. Let alone actually making a scenario for this to all play out.

"Hey." Nothing. Hm. On a whim, Clint walks toward him, watching as Loki places a hand over the wall, bowing his head with yet another sigh, before sucking in a sharp breath as Clint's hand skims right through his shoulder. Like he's only air.

Loki whirls around, his hand outstretched as though about to attack whoever had touched him, but his eyes scan right over Clint blankly. He can't see him. He actually can't _see_ him. Loki lowers his hands after a while, frowning at the wine like it's to blame before suddenly glancing up at a thud that draws his attention.

Footsteps pound above them both, someone running in the opposite direction, and Loki rolls his eyes in frustration, "Why does he _insist_ on exploring." Before he then suddenly leaves the room, his left hand interestingly trembling slightly; and Clint's all alone again.

"Okay." Facing the wall that Loki had touched before, he blows out his cheeks, springing his arm out to touch it himself only to blink in surprise when he actually _does_ make contact, before it suddenly clicks.

 _Why does he_ insist _on exploring._

 _Tony_.

He practically races toward the doors that Loki had left out of, to try and follow him to wherever Tony must be, if there even is another floor up. He hopes that he hadn't hesitated too long and shoves what had just happened out of mind for future reference for Loki's court case, because seeing Tony safe is a lot more important right now and -

The doors suddenly materialise out of his hands before he can even turn the handle, and the wood shatters into _dust_ , merging into a deep darkness that fills his sight entirely and makes him stumble back in surprise, irrationally believing that he's gone blind for whatever reason. "Da - " He claws at the air, his stomach swooping.

When the sensation eventually passes for him, however, he's left in another completely different place, surrounded by an almost pitch black light and smelling metallic substances instead of clay and wood. Taking a step to the left, his foot knocks something down and it falls with a clink; metal on metal from the feel of things.

This - can't be good.

Something slips past him, behind him, skims across his knees and hisses around his entire body.

"... hello?"

His answer is a rush of ice from every direction, driving him to his knees with a scream as the cold _stabs_ into him, burning into his skin until he finally falls unconscious.

 

**_~_ **

* * *

**_~_ **

 

Tony flinches when the door opens but when it's only Loki who walks inside - and not some _figment_ \- he simply cringes further into the water, "What do _you_ want?"

"An interruption of your privacy in return for your comments earlier." Is the prim reply, and Loki even has the nerve to sit on the edge of the tub and look down at him. Tony resists the urge to drench him with water and decides on just turning away instead.

"If I apologize will you leave me alone?" Loki doesn't answer, and when Tony turns to look at him again, he's frowning openly, "What?"

"What did you see this time?" Tony looks at him, "Bodies you must be used to by now, so what else did you come across to make you hide away like this?" Used to? Not in his _life._

"I'm not _hiding_." Wrapping his arms tighter around his knees, he raises his shoulders into a protective hunch, "I'm having a bath."

"So I see."

"Look, what do you _want_ _?"_ No answer. _Fuck_ him. "I'm sorry for upsetting you with Thor, okay? Now go away." Loki doesn't move. "... please?" Still nothing, and Tony swallows past a rapidly drying throat, shutting his eyes. His stomach grumbles suddenly, serving as a distraction for his mind at least, but he refuses to stand with Loki so close. Particularly because of the fact that he's naked again.

They sit in silence for a good long while then, within which Tony's stomach grumbles at least two more times and he clears his throat to hide it - the water also begins to cool around him and he shivers constantly.

He blinks, and he's sitting in blood. Blinks again, and the water is clean. Over, and over. After what must at least be five minutes of solid silence, he opens his mouth to try and say something that'll rid him of Loki's company, but he's beaten to it.

"Lilah Del Montroy." Making him start, he then just looks up at Loki questioningly, but he doesn't even have to ask for more before - "She was the first." Nothing much else comes after that declaration, though - so eventually - Tony gives him the question that he's obviously waiting for.

"The first ... what?"

"The first Omega that I brought to this house." What? "And the first that I killed."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry they seem to be getting shorter D:


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short again, and sorry for the long wait!
> 
> I think the last two chapters have lost me some audience anyway, but I hope those still here enjoy!

.

* * *

.

 

Tony remains utterly still, sitting in increasingly chilling water and holding his knees to his chest with his arms.

Loki, alternatively, doesn't stop moving. He glances around the bathroom, digs his fingers into his legs, scoffs at himself and jerks his head to each side before finally landing on Tony again, narrowing his eyes until he eventually gives up with whatever internal battle he's been so obviously having and sighs, "Are you going to ask?"

Tony's heart pounds but other than that, he surprisingly feels quite calm, "Not - entirely sure which question I want to ask _first_ ... really." Loki's fingers clench harder into his legs; he's going to leave a bruise there at least. Why is - ? Okay. So maybe he does have a question first in line, "Why are you talking about this? If you clearly don't want to?"

"Cathartism."

Okay then. Tony shifts in the water, his limbs slowly beginning to ache from the position he's holding but he refuses to stretch them out just yet, finding some semblance of comfort in making himself as small as possible, "Why did you kill her?" He then blurts out, when nothing else seems to want to force it's way into his mind. "This - this Lilah?"

"Why not?" Is the badly-covered-up attempt at indifference. Tony just looks at him and that seems to be enough. "She wished to die." He sounds almost defensive about it.

"So what are you, resident Omega mercy killer?" The attempt at harsh-humor runs dry and they both fall into silence again. At least until Tony finds that he can't stand it anymore, "Did she - want to die before or _after_ you'd had your way with her?" Loki doesn't answer. Tony scoffs, "Just me then?"

"If you are asking if I lay with her, then yes. I did." These quick, seemingly honest answers are kind of freaking Tony out, more than the topic itself is, "Her ... and at least nineteen others." Which makes Tony 20th in line for the murder train, "Which is where your so-called luck comes about. If you were like the others, you would be dead by now as well."

He kind of figured already. "And why ’s that? What makes me so different?"

Loki rotates his jaw, taking in a slow breath through his nose, "... I do not know."

 _Fine_. Tony finally unravels his arms from his legs and stands, wincing when his body protests as frozen water cascades down his calves from where it had built up between them. Casually stepping out of the tub to walk out and past Loki obviously isn't what he'd been expected to do because Loki actually gives a start, leaning back to watch him go; frowning slightly in surprise. Still naked and now soaked all over again, Tony's annoyance at Loki will likely not get him some clean clothes after this, now that his new ones are covered with blood, but. But he's been naked all this time already, and a little discomfort - a _lot_ of discomfort - is necessary if it'll help him work out why he's here in the first place and how to get out.

At least he hopes.

Tony shuts the door after him, cringing when it only slams open again afterward and Loki follows him out, "Where do you think you're going?"

"To write my Will." Short and snappy. Taste your own medicine Loki. "I mean, after all. If I've only got until you figure out what it  _is_ about me that you 'don't know' yet, I need to make sure that there's at least _something_ left behind." He's already got a Will, obviously, but the statement is what he really needs to make, and it works. Loki grabs at his arm and spins him back around, glaring in such a similar way to the first time he had - right after Tony had stabbed him. Come on. _Spill_ it. "Unless my time's already up?"

Loki's chest heaves, like he'd ran here from at least two miles away, instead of just five steps out the door. His nostrils flare, fire in his eyes, and Tony's arm begins to warm under his grip from where he must obviously be trying to burn him. Or - restraining from burning him, because it isn't painful. Not yet, anyway.

"You _have_ no time." He then suddenly barks, the words grated and low, forced out from behind clenched teeth, "For reasons you cannot understand, you are safe." He pauses, "From death, at least, if nothing else." The look on his face is all kinds of hesitant, mixing Tony's hate for him into something much more distastefully pitying, and suddenly - he _knows_.

He just - _knows_.

Like he always _has_ known. Everything, every moment in this house, every word said or screamed, and every action that's frightened or confused Tony flies through his mind and he _really_ isn't called a genius for nothing.

Loki electrocuting himself - right after _almost_ , but never quite, trying to hurt Tony. Loki's demeanour dramatically changing every time Tony sees him. Loki's outline in the wall down below, burnt into the stone. The fresh blood from the Omegas still left over.

Loki doesn't _need_ blood, doesn't want it. Thor has told them all before about blood magic but if the user is dead, the 'magic' - or whatever it is - isn't as powerful. Loki uses the best and only the best. Blood from the Omegas wouldn't do anything for him. Because it isn't _for_ him.

He remembers their names. Or at least the first Omega he killed. Killing Omegas goes completely against an Alpha's biology, when their sole instinct is to protect, so unless they're truly insane or disturbed, the effect of murdering Omegas would be horrible for them. And remembering their names doesn't fit into the bill of 'truly insane or disturbed'. Loki is - maybe less than severe - insane, but obviously not enough for this to not be effecting him. And it has been, so obviously so that Tony kicks himself internally for not having put two-and-two together.

The wine, the pure alcohol, getting drunk, wallowing around on his own as far away from Tony as he can get almost every single day, sometimes leaving the house to do who-knows-what, but it probably wasn't to hysterically laugh about what he's been doing. He hasn't been acting like a typical serial Omega-killer at all.

His thoughts must show on his face because Loki uncertainly, but slowly, releases him, his face now blank. He turns from anger to questioning but when Tony finally manages to actually say something, it barely comes out as a whisper, "How powerful is it?"

Loki looks at him, "What?"

"The thing that's controlling you? The thing that's got us trapped here?" And just like that, it's like a light's been switched off on Loki's face, pale becoming paler. He steps backward, putting some space between them both, and his hand clasps the one that had been burnt with a jerk of movement; in remembrance. "How powerful is it?"

Straightening, Loki rotates his jaw again with a grim look on his face, "More than should be possible."

.

* * *

.

 

Clint slams his body backward, gasping.

The severe chill of the room that he's now in _sinks_ into his skin, burning him with it's intensity until he's actually crying out. Pain throbs constantly but he bites it back, well adjusted to this sort of torture and if Loki thinks he'll give in after only a few hours, he's got another -

" _Fu_ \- " He falls through the floor, not an odd-occurrence in this fucking house apparently - landing hard over a metal table. He's bent over it on his back, gasping, in a position that sends spasms of agony through his spine. Panting and staring up at the ceiling, where there isn't even a hole to show where he'd fallen through, he tries to speak, to taunt Loki into showing himself, but nothing really wants to come out. Swallowing, he tries to roll over instead, which is when he notices that he's lying on another body.

Jerking back, he climbs off of it as slowly and gently as he can, his heart clenching at the sheer disrespect of how the corpse is so horribly laid out here, and with a pang he wonders if it's Tony. Shit. No - it can't be. _Don't_ be.

But once he's standing again, he can tell that it isn't. For one, it's a woman, naked and cut into, long dead but not so compared to how the house had looked before. She must have been here after the fire then. If there even _had_ been a fire.

Thor had said something about Loki being able to change the way the house looks, so maybe these are all tricks of his, to drive them apart and freak them out. Thor and him will be okay with this all. Maybe even Steve and Rhodey, with them both having been in the army, but he wonders how Tony's been faring if he's been seeing all this as well. Not well, is all he can think. Tony may put on a tough act most of the time, but he still feels things a little too strongly.

Dammit.

Wiping his nose, Clint starts at how cold it is to his touch, trying to walk but only managing a slight stagger before he has to stop again. Since that one glimpse before, he hasn't seen Loki at all, but his 'magic', or whatever, is obviously doing the job for him. Clint's wrist is broken, snapped by something he hadn't been able to see in the dark. He's covered in blood, from superficial wounds only, but they still sting horribly and each step brings all the more pain when the grooves cut into his ankles spread each time.

If he could _see_ how it's all happening to him, he could fight back, but -

_"Where do you think you are going?"_

He freezes. Loki's voice echoes all around him and he turns, spinning around only to find himself facing a wall and nothing else.

 _"To write my Will."_ Ghost-like, the words chime through the room, and Clint rushes to the wall, slamming his hands against it, " _After all, if I've - "_

"Tony?" He punches the wall, the voices fading away. _No_ _!_ "Tony! Tony can you hear me?!" His wrist flares, but he ignores it, his throat becoming raw from how loud he shouts, " _Tony!_ _"_

Nothing. Gone again. _Fuck_.

He kicks at the wall, his hands still plastered to it's surface, and he's just about to turn away to find a door or another way out, when that same surface suddenly - _gives_. He pauses, glancing back, watching with narrowed eyes as the brick turns to sand; engulfing his hands in no time. Too late, he realises that that's bad, and he yanks back but by then the wall is solid again and he's stuck. " _Shit_ \- " He pulls harder, biting the inside of his cheeks when his broken wrist protests awfully to the treatment, but before he can even budge it at all, his fingers find a wire within it.

Open, sparking, and when he skims over it just the once, the electricity surges into him.

And he screams.

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* * *

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One by a library. Two on the road. The rest in various forms of self-defence inside what must have been a pub once.

She counts at least nine. All dead. 

Murdered too, by the looks of it, by someone who clearly didn't want to hide that fact at all. _Loki_. Watching her back as carefully as she can while walking through the 'empty' town, Natasha's keeps a firm grip on her gun with one hand, constantly checking the box that Clint had given her before as well. She isn't exactly sure what it does but by the little trigger on the side, she's pretty sure it's relatively easy to use. 

Neither of them have left the house yet, but it hasn't been any more then 10 minutes so she hadn't exactly expected progress. Still. With no reception out here and without hearing anything from any of them any other way, she can't help but worry. And clearly, Loki isn't against murdering those in his way, if -

Oh. What's this?

The small garage that she comes across then has it's two doors wide open and it's interior doesn't exactly leave much to the imagination. She yanks a cloth out from her pocket, usually reserved for a make-shift spanish-windlass, but right now it'll do to keep the smell out by pressing her nose against it.

Torture tools, binds, and blood. Looks like the breedonistic bastards didn't die with their facility. Hefting her gun higher, she steps inside, looking into every corner, every hiding place she can see, before stopping short at the sight of a body. She kneels beside it, checking for a pulse that she knows she won't find, only to then just check how long he's been dead instead.

More than three days, at least, though basic forensic pathology has never really been her strong suit. She stands with a sigh, looking around the room with barely concealed disgust. Why would Loki murder a man with the same ideals as him? Torturing and capturing Omegas. Science and pleasure are obviously different reasons, but still. Unless the man had stepped over his boundaries, or maybe Loki had just been angry that day. Who knows.

The binds that she had first seen when she'd entered the room have been cut through, so whoever had last been captive here had had some help in getting out at least. Good for them. Their blood has dried over the ground as well, so she takes out her scanner from one of her clips, switching it on with a thumb-print touch.

It picks up the blood easily, flashing as it dissects the sample, finally giving her a result of: _Blood Type A+_ [ _Anthony Edward Stark MATCH]._

Tony's then. But - frowning, she bends, touching the binds with one hand and chewing on her bottom lip. Picking up the smell, she confirms that it definitely _is_ Tony's blood and also his pain that she can sense here, having picked that up way back when she'd been Natalie Rushman and Tony had been dying. So _he_ had been the last captive here. And had gotten help getting out.

Glancing back at the body behind her, her frown deepens. Or maybe _not_. At least - not help in a way she would want for him. Possibly just Loki taking back what he'd stolen. And his anger could be explained this way as well, if he had killed these Alpha's simply for hurting what he obviously thinks now belongs to him. Clenching her hands into fists, she sighs, before suddenly becoming alert at a light scrape to her left and spinning around to shoot at it quickly.

A woman screams at the sound, jumping out of her hiding place with her hands held high, "Please!" Natasha glares at her, distrustful and angry, "Are - are you _police_?" She doesn't get an answer but then she doesn't really wait for one either, "You have to help me! Please! You can't let him get me too!"

Holding her gun threateningly, Natasha narrows her eyes, stepping forward, "How many of you are there?"

"What?" The woman flinches at another gunshot and flings her arms around her head, "It's just me! They're all dead, he killed them all! I swear, I swear on my life, it's just me now!"

Still glaring, she refuses to lower her gun, "And who are you?"

"My name's Irene Penfield! I - I used to work around here!” _Really_. “Are you poli - ?”

Natasha lowers her gun, making her tone very, very clear, “Tell me everything that happened here." Irene staggers back a step, putting a hand to heart in an act of pity, and though she is elderly Natasha doesn’t feel any sympathy at all, “And if you lie … I won’t be happy.”

.

* * *

.

"Tell me everything." Loki gives Tony a barely concealed look of disdain, "Starting with why - scratch that - _how_ in the hell it's even controlling you. What happened to 'real power' and all that?"

"It expired." Curt and close-mouthed all over again.

"I can't _do_ anything unless you tell me, you know."

Loki lowers his gaze, chuckling softly, "You think knowing that I am not the master at work here will help you? You are not the only Omega to have known."

Tony blinks, taken-aback, "You said you killed them all sooner than you - "

"And I did. I _told_ the third Omega I captured."

" _Why_?" But the conversation is apparently over, when his 'captor' decides to walk away, "Loki - "

"I have told you knowing will not help. Does it really matter?" Looking at him over his shoulder, Loki sneers, "It will hardly change your opinion over me."

"Does _that_ matter to _you_?" Smiling a little at that jab, Loki only turns away again and he's gone the next second, down the stairs to get drunk as usual. Tony stays there, watching the empty space he'd been looking at not moments ago, chewing on his bottom lip.

He - doesn't actually know what to think. Are actions punishable if you're not the one at the steering wheel? How's he supposed to feel now? Hating Loki had been so easy, so simple. He wants to still do it, feels like he _should_ still do it, and the phantom memory of the rape reminds him of the reasons why. But then there's the fact that Loki hadn't even been in control during that time, or at least he's guessing that he hadn't been, and until he knows the truth it's probably going to eat up inside him like fire.

But if Loki _hadn't_ been in control, then isn't that rape on his side too? God he doesn't know, this is all so confusing. And for whatever reason, he really wants to talk to Natasha about it. When she'd been Natalie Rushman, she'd given him the best Alpha advice that he's ever gotten, on how they instinctively feel and think, and that had opened his mind a whole lot more on the subject of bonding and so on. Hell, he'd considered bonding with Pepper after mulling it all over.

Which reminds him. A bond is one lifetime. It can be severed, but it's difficult, and neither of the two bonded can do it themselves. Mostly, a bond can be broken when another half dies, which means - Loki must have had, what, _nineteen_ bonds? No. Twenty.

If he's telling the truth, then emotionally, that's - _man_.

He doesn't know how to describe it and subconsciously, he finds himself squeezing his legs together in the memory of the night that _he'd_ bonded with Loki. The night that had started this whole nightmare for him.

So he's bond number 21. He wonders how that feels. He wonders if Loki even _does_ feel. Wonders - 

Wonders what in the hell he's supposed to feel himself, and what he's supposed to _do_ now. First things first, he wants answers. Long, detailed answers.

And then - he wants to see that thing down there again. Or at least - to know what it is. How big it is, when it sleeps, how it's survived in a dungeon-like habitat. Any weaknesses maybe. Because if Loki can't escape because he's under it's control, that doesn't mean _Tony_ has to stop trying too.

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	21. Chapter 21

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**Hello. I am sorry to give false hope of a new chapter, but this is just a warning.**

**I am working on a project that will take a lot of my time away from fic writing. I will still try to update but please don't send me messages about them if I don't soon.**

**Hopefully, if this project works out, it'll all be for my readers anyway.**

**Thank you for understanding. This will be deleted when there is a new chapter.**

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